SERMONS 



ON VARIOUS 

IMPORTANT SUBJECTS, 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 

DANIEL DE SUPERVILLE, Sen. 



BY 

JOHN REYNOLDS, 

MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL. 



" As for the French Sermons— I never met with any of them 
lt that are to be compared with those of Mr. Superville, the Pro- 
u testant Divine at Rotterdam: He especially excels in the 
u beauty of his Imagery, Descriptions, and Similies, and some of 
" the most pathetic Expostulations I ever saw." Dr. Doddridge. 

jQortotel) : 

Printed by Bacon, Kinnebrook, and Co. Mercury-Office; 

And sold by T. Blanshard, at the Conference-OfTice, No. 14, City Road, 
London ; and by Mr. Spence, York. 



1S16 



/ 



SERMON I. 

UPON THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNO- 
CENCE, AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF 
MAN. ' 

Ecclesiastes, vii Chap. 29 Verse. 
Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man 

upright, but they have sought out many inventions, Page 1 

SERMON II. 

: tt^qN MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 
Ecclesiastes, vii Chap. 29 Verse. 

Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man 

upriglU, but they have sought out many inventions, .... 35 

SERMON III. 

UPON A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF 

MAN. 

Jeremiah, xvii Chap. 9 Verse. 

The Heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately 

wicked; uho can knozo it? 68 

SERMON IV. 

UPON A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF 

MAN. 

Jeremiah, xvii Chap. 9 Verse. 

The Heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately 
wicked; who can know it? , , 102 



IV CONTENTS. 

SERMON V. 

UPON A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF 

MAN. 

Jeremiah, xvii Chap. 9 Verse. 
The Heart is deceitful above all things^ and desperately 
wicked; who can know it ?" 137 

SERMON VL 

UPON THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 
Luke, xxiv Chap. 50 and 51 Verses. 
And he led them out as far as to Bethany; and he lifted 
up his hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, 
while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and 
carried up into heaven. •••••••• 169 

SERMON VII. 

UPON THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT, 

Acts, ii Chap. 33 Verse. 
Therefore, being by the right hand of God exalted, and 
having received of the Father the promise of the Holy 
Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye now see and 
hear 

SERMON VIIL 

UPON THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 
James, i Chap. 22 Verse. 
But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, de. 

222 

ceiving your own selves. . • . . • 

SERMON IX. 
UPON THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 
PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 
John, v Chap. 36 Verse. 
But 1 have greater witness than that of John ; for the 
works that my Father hath given me to finish, the same 
works that I do, bear witness of me, that the Father 

.... 249 

hath sent me. • 



CONTENTS. 



V 



SERMON X. 

UPON THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE 
AGAINST JESUS CHRIST AND HIS DOC- 
TRINE. 

Matthew, xi Chap. 6 Verse. 
And blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in me. . . 277 

SERMON XI. 

UPON THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD REN- 
DERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 
I John, v Chap. 3 Verse. 

For this is the love of God, that we keep his command, 
ments; and his commandments are not grievous 307 

SERMON XII. 

UPON THE USE AND ABUSE OF THE JUDG- 
MENTS OF GOD. 
Isaiah, xxvi Chap. 9 and 10 Verses. 

For when thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants 
of the world zvill learn righteousness. Let favor be 
shewed to the wicked, yet will he not learn righteous, 
ness, in the land of uprightness will he deal unjustly, 
und will not behold the majesty of the Lord. , v 332 

SERMON XIII. 

UPON THE LORD'S SUPPER. 
1st Epistle of Corinthians, x Chap. 16 Verse. 

The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the communion 
of the blood of Christ ? The bread which we break, 
is it not the communion of the body of Christ ? 362 



ERRATA. 

Page 30, line 11, read Solomo7%, 
128, line 3, read like. 
164, line 11, read irritated. 
178, line 9, read resurrections 



THE GLORY OP THE ORIGINAL IN- 
NOCENCE, AND THE MISERY OF 
THE FALL OF MAN. 

SERMON I. 

Ecclesiastes, vii Chap. 29 Verse. 

" ho, this only have I found, that God hath made 
man upright, but they have sought out many 
inventions," 

My Brethren, 

'W'E read in the 2d. of Daniel, that " King Nebu- 
" chadnezzar saw in a dream a great image, whose 
ce brightness was excellent, and which stood before 
" him. His head was of fine gold, his breast and 
"his arms of silver, his belly and his thighs of 
"brass, his legs of iron, and his feet part of iron 
" and part of clay. Nebuchadnezzar looked at this 
" image, till that a stone was cut out without hands, 
c< zvhich smote the image upon his feet that were of 
" iron and clay, and brake them to pieces. Then 
iC was the iron, the clay, the brass, the silver, and 
(t the gold broken to pieces together, and became like 
" the chaff o f the summer threshing floors, and the 
" wind carried them away, that no place was found 

B 



2 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 

"for them ; and the stone that smote the image be* 
" came a mountain, and filled the whole earth." 
The Prophet, after having recited the dream, gave 
the interpretation of it, and said to the Monarch of 
Babylon, " thou, O King, art a King of Kings, (i.e. 
the greatest and most powerful of Kings,) " for the 
" God of heaven hath given thee a kingdom, power, 
"and strength, and glory; and wheresoever the 
" children of men dwell, the beasts of the field and 
" the fowls of the heaven hath he given into thy 
f e hand, and hath made thee ruler over them all : 
" thou art this head of gold." My Brethren, every 
one knows that this image, with its various parts, re- 
presented the four great empires ; but may we not be 
permitted to consider the whole of Nebuchadnezzar's 
vision, as a striking description of man in his creation,, 
and in his fall ; and as a very appropriate emblem 
of what has taken place in human nature ? Did not 
man, in his original state, truly resemble a great 
statue, made in the image and likeness of the King 
of Kings, a masterpiece of an infinite workman, com- 
posed, indeed, of different materials, but put together 
with so much art, proportion, and symmetry, that 
nothing in the world could be deemed more perfect, 
or more admirable ! He stood firm in his innocence, 
and his splendor was excellent. Upon the conside- 
ation of this, the Psalmist cries outj "what is man 
<c that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man 
" that thou visitest him? for thou hast made him a 
"little lower than the Arnrels, and crowned him 
" with glory and honour ; thou madest him to have 
" dominion over the works of thy hands ; thou hast 
"put all things under his feet " It might more 
justly be said to Adam than to the King of Babylon, 
" The God of hedven hath given thee a kingdom, 
"power, strength, and glory, and wheresoever the 
"children of men dioell 3 the beasts of the field, mid 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. S 

f< the fowls of the air, hath he given them into thy 
"hand." However vast might be the empire of 
Nebuchadnezzar, it is very certain that his dominion 
could not be so extensive as that of our first father. 
{C The head of gold," in the image, was not a thing 
so precious as that sublime intelligence, that noble 
and luminous reason, that pure understanding, with 
which man was endowed. " The breast and arms 
sc of silver," w ere less brilliant than that perfect will, 
that sanctified heart, those spiritual affections, more 
pure than refined silver, which constituted the orna- 
ment and glory of our first parents. If man in his 
body had any thing gross and terrestrial, and, as it 
were, a mixture of inferior metals, and even of dust; 
nevertheless, all this was so excellently composed, so 
admirably wrought, so wonderfully put together, that 
there was nothing wanting to render him a complete 
masterpiece. But alas ! this excellent image of the 
Divinity did not long preserve its original lustre ; it 
remained but a very short time on its feet. Its glory 
was only as a dream, a shadow which flyeth away. 
" It was looked upon, and behold it was no more. 
<{ Man was like a green bay tree : yet he passed 
£< away, and lo, he was not ; yea, he was sought but 
cc could not be found. This great image is fallen, 
c< is fallen, and the inhabitants of the earth have 
" reason to weep." A deadly blow has been struck 
upon its feeble part, and overthrown it, and this blow 
was so quick, that it was difficult to see the hand from 
w hich it came. Man, attacked by the wiles of the 
devil, captivated by his senses, struck w ith the beau- 
ty of a fruit, tempted by the allurement of pleasure, 
by curiosity, by a desire to be greater and happier 
than he was, is found conquered, is cast to the earth, 
and broken in pieces. What an overthrow! which 
has spared neither the head of gold, the arms of silver, 
the legs of iron, nor the feet of clay ! What an over- 

b 2 



4 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE', 



throw! which hath blinded the understandings per- 
verted the will, corrupted the affections, and disorga- 
nized the whole body. Our endowments and per- 
fections were ce as the chaff which the wind driveth 
£C away/' and the stone which hath struck us hath fill- 
ed the whole earth. " Sin hath reigned unto death 
sc over all mankind/ 3 from one end of the earth to 
the other. But, what is very remarkable, is, that the 
fatal blow which hath destroyed us, did not come sim- 
ply from without, but also from within. The evil 
came from ourselves. We have assisted the deviL 
Our first parents consented to the seduction ; they 
sinned voluntarily; their fall was the sin of their 
will, the effect of their unbelief, and of their vain 
imaginations. This is, my Brethren, what Solomon 
intends to teach us ; the two-fold state of man, the 
image standing upright, and the image broken, which 
he wishes to represent to us in the fatal, but voluntary, 
blow which caused our fall, when he saith ; <{ Lo, 
"this only have I found, that God hath made man up- 
" right, but they have sought out many inventions" 

The wise man having said many things upon the 
vanity of man, and upon his corruption, intended to 
discover to us its source. He speaks as a man who 
had made various reflections upon the state of the 
human race. He tells us, in the preceding verse, 
that there is nothing so difficult to find as a good man, 
and a prudent and virtuous woman ; and it appears 
that, upon this, he wishes to prevent a question that 
might be put to him ; whence cometh this ? How is 
it that man is so wicked, so corrupt? Is it a neces- 
sary consequence of his nature, or the effect of his 
will? What is the origin of the evil that is found in 
him? Solomon answers, that ''from the beginning it 
S( was not so/' that, originally, the man and woman 
did not come from the hand of the Creator, in the 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF UAN. 5 

state of vanity, and depravity, in which we now see 
them. No, God formed them in a state of purity and 
innocence, but they have gone astray from him. 
They themselves have sought out vain inventions, 
which have destroyed them, and which are daily de- 
stroying their posterity. This is what he would teach 
us as the result of his researches. " Only," said he, 
'* this have I found, that God hath made man upright, 
"but they hate sought out many inventions ;" or, 
as others have translated it, "many reasonings, many 
"schemes, many evil thoughts," 

My Brethren, that which was the subject of the 
meditation of the wisest of men, may very properly 
be ours. This subject, of the original rectitude of 
man, and of his voluntary fall, is striking and impor- 
tant in itself; useful in many respects; worthy of our 
exertions and your attention. We have therefore 
concluded that it is worthy of our serious considera- 
tion. We had, at first, formed the design of explain- 
ing the whole text, and proposing to you, on the one 
hand, the perfection of man in his creation, and on 
the other, the misery of his rebellion and fall; which 
would have made the two parts of our sermon ; as 
they are the two truths included in our text. But 
after having maturely considered it, the subject ap- 
peared to us so grand, and so extensive, that, in order 
more deeply to investigate it, and more fully to ex- 
plain it, wediave thought proper to confine ourselves, 
to-day, to the state of man's integrity ; reserving for 
another opportunity, if it shall please the Lord, to 
address you concerning the dreadful fall of our first 
parents. Therefore we shall now proceed to the ex^ 
animation of this truth, that "God hath made man up- 
" right upon which we shall consider three things. 
In the first place, we will endeavour to give you a 
just idea of the original righteousness of Adam, aiwL 

b 3 



6 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 



explain to you in what it consisted. Secondly, we 
will endeavour to explode the false ideas, and. the 
errors, which have prevailed, touching' this state of in- 
tegrity. Lastly, we shall confirm, by various reasons, 
and by what we shall say upon it after him, that 
which Solomon has advanced, concerning the rec- 
titude of man. May God direct us in what we are 
about to propose to you, and bless our preaching and 
your hearing, AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 



I SHALL not dwell here, my Brethren, upon the 
preface that Soloman has placed before the truth 
w hich he teaches us, (C Lo,this only have 1 found it 
is easy to see, that it is a kind of introduction to what 
he intended to say, in order to make us more sensibly 
feel its importance and certainty. It is as much as 
if he had said: after having ruminated upon the ori- 
gin of evil, I bring the matter to this conclusion — I 
reduce it to these evident truths. Supposing it to be 
thus, you easily comprehend that when he tells us that 
God made man upright, he speaks of the first man, 
of man in his creation, not of man, as he is now born, 
in a state of sin. We can no longer say that we are 
upright, or that righteousness is congenial to us. 
" We are shapen in iniquity, and conceived in sin;" 
we are born defiled; "children of wrath; all our 
" thoughts are evil from our youth " But the wise 
man conducts us back to the garden of Eden, to the 
head and source of the human race, to our first pa- 
rents ; for it is of them in general, of Adam and Eve 
together, that he intends to speak, when he saith, 
■ f God hath made nicin upright" Man, that is to say. 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 



7 



the man and woman, or, if you please, human nature, 
in its first origin, in the person of Adam and his 
spouse. 

Some translate it, c: Godhath made man simple " in- 
stead of (C God hath made man upright but this in- 
terpretation may be dangerous, if by simplicity we un- 
derstand merely a quality resembling that of children, 
who are truly without malice or artifice, but who are 
also very weak in their faculties, a circumstance which 
easily exposes them to deception. The Hebrew 
word imports more than this, it signifies right, good, 
just, equitable, sincere, conscientious; in a word, it 
signifies moral rectitude, and the opposition which 
Solomon here makes of this uprightness to the wan- 
derings, the evasions, the crookedness, of sinful man ; 
and the vain thoughts which have precipitated him 
into sin, sufficiently evidence that he intends to say, 
that God created man in a state of integrity and ori- 
ginal righteousness. 

In effect, my Brethren, God invested his creature 
avith all the perfection necessary to a rational being, 
whom he had formed for his own glory ; he confer- 
red upon him not only all the natural perfection, 
essential to this existence, but all the moral perfec- 
tion which was requiste to answer the end to which 
he had appointed him, He gave him a pure soul, 
and a perfect body ; an understanding which was not 
imbued with any prejudices, nor prepossessed with 
any false principles, but capable of knowing, and 
comprehending, truth of every kind, provided it was 
distinctly proposed to him. He imprinted on the 
soul of man the original ideas of things, and the first 
principles necessary to the regulation of his judgment. 
He gave him a free will, of an almost infinite extent, 
unbounded in activity, sensible to the love of the 



I 



8 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 

supreme good, with a vehement, and invincible, in- 
clination towards that good; a will capable of em- 
bracing, and loving, that which might be proposed, 
by the understanding, as good and just, but without 
being forced by any thing external. It was capable 
of withholding its consent, till the understanding had 
clearly comprehended the objects presented to it, 
and considered them in every point of view. It had 
the power of surrendering itself only to the force of 
conviction, and to the clearest evidence. In other 
respects, all the inclinations which God had given to 
man, his natural dispositions, his appetites, his pas- 
sions, tended only towards good, and were calculated 
only to excite him to labour more diligently and more 
effectually, for the preservation and perfection of his 
being All these motions were subservient to reason. 
They informed him without commanding him; they 
admonished the soul without troubling it. They ex- 
cited its activity, and powers, without transporting it 
too far. After having informed it, they waited for its 
orders without impatience ; they observed its laws 
without exceeding them, and without extending them- 
selves farther than was intended. His affections 
were neither too fervent nor too languid, equally dis- 
tant from excess and languor, from rising too high 
and sinking too low. They always led him towards 
praise-worthy objects, and they led him in a manner 
which jWas lawful and expedient. They desired 
nothing but what was desirable, and they did not 
continue inactive or indifferent. They refused not 
to desire that, which, when presented to them, was 
worthy of being desired, 

In this delightful and perfect harmony of the fa- 
culties and affections of man, even his body bore its 
part 5 and contributed to the perfection of this mas- 
terpiece of the Almighty. It was absolutely neces- 
sary that it should be so ; for man being composed 



t 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 9 

of body and soul, and being capable of an infinity 
of actions, sensations and passions, which depended 
upon, and resulted from, the union of the body with 
the soul ; this man could not have been called up- 
right, righteous, and well-inclined, if the body had 
not participated, as much as possible, in this upright- 
ness and inclination to good. A rebellious body, a 
machine badly constructed, with motions and organs 
ill disposed, and badly regulated, would have been 
very improper to harmonize with the soul, and aid 
its functions. This would have been a perpetual 
source of war and anarchy, instead of which, the 
state of innocency was a state of perfect peace, in 
which all the parts of man were in a state of perfect 
unison. The body possessed a harmony of propor- 
tion, a soundness, a vigour, in all its parts, both in- 
ternal and external ; altogether calculated to pre- 
serve the laws of union with the soul, and to produce 
no passions and desires, but such as were regular 
and harmonious. I look upon man, in this state, in 
reality, as a little world, admirably constructed; a 
world newly created, altogether new, coming out of 
the hands of its Maker, with the verdure and beauty 
of a delightful spring. There was in it nothing old ; 
nothing impaired ; nothing out of its place, nor per- 
verted to a wrong purpose. It was a little world in 
perfect symmetry, which nothing had yet disturbed. 
In it, there arose neither vapours, capable of ob- 
scuring the understanding, nor whirlwinds, nor tem- 
pests, which could throw the soul into confusion. 
There were not yet any lusts, which could make war 
against this soul, no seditions, nor internal commo- 
tions, between reason and the passions. That dread- 
ful wrestling of the flesh and the spirit had no place ; 
these two parties, now always at variance, were then 
in perfect harmony. The senses had not revolted ; 
man could safely believe their report, and he had no 



10 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 



sooner formed an idea of lawful pleasure, than they 
became the instruments of its enjoyment. He was 
not always obliged to have the scourge in his hand, 
to tame a rebelious flesh, and to mortify his body, in 
order to preserve the vigour of his soul. His reason 
had his flesh in subjection, and his affections were 
as docile steeds, which knew their master, and un re- 
luctantly submitted to his guidance. They had not 
yet taken the bit between their teeth, and thrown 
the charioteer from his seat. O happy state ! in 
which the understanding resembled the heavens 
shining with light, always tranquil and always in 
motion, which shed over the earth (I mean, the in- 
ferior parts) only benign influences | O happy state! 
in which the will was like a queen, equally prudent 
and free, who governs according to the established 
laws • absolute over her subjects, but always obe* 
dient to justice and equit}^ This, my Brethren, is 
a lively image of man, in his uprightness and inno- 
cence ; C( God hath made man upright.' 3 

But we may say still more upon the subject, and 
endeavour, more deeply to fathom it. That which 
is upright, is properly what is according to rule. 
That which is called uprightness, or rectitude, is a 
thing purely relative. It is a quality, or disposition, 
which relates to certain measures, and to a law which 
regulates, and prescribes, our duty. Had then man 
a rule, a standard, of duty, to which it became him 
to be conformed ; and to which he was, in reality, 
obedient in his state of uprightness ? Undoubtedly 
he had ; man could no more be without law, than 
he could be without God ; and he was upright, as his 
thoughts, and desires, were conformable to the law 
of his Creator Man, being a creature, could not be 
independent, sole master of himself, without acknow- 
ledging the supremacy of his Creator, without owing- 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 1 I 

him any homage: this was impossible. It was just 
and necessary that he should be dependent upon his 
Sovereign; subject to certain conditions. It was 
his bounden duty to render unto him love, obedience, 
and gratitude. The laws of love, gratitude, and 
obedience, in a rational creature towards his Author, 
are laws which are natural and unalterable, as they 
necessarily arise from the relation in which God 
stands to us, and in which we are connected with 
him. You know that man, endowed with intelli- 
gence and reason, could not be led by impulse, by 
physical motion, separate from all knowledge, and 
trial of his obedience. God, in order to rule and 
govern him, did not choose simply to actuate him, 
like the brutes and inanimate creatures, by the mere 
energy of his power, or mechanical impulsion. He 
governs all beings in a manner proportioned to their 
nature. Thus he gave to man, in his creation, not 
only reason, and a faculty capable of knowing and 
discerning between good and evil, but he engraved 
upon these faculties, principles sufficient to enable 
him to make this distinction. He also bestowed 
upon the will a determination, an inclination, towards 
good, capable of impelling him to what was right. 
He communicated to man, as far as was necessary, 
what he was to do, and he imparted to him a capa- 
city sufficient to enable him to conform to the laws 
he had given him, whether natural or positive. Is 
not this to have " made man upright?'* 

He gave to Adam some laws which were natural, 
and one, as it is commonly said, which was positive, 
or of arbitrary institution. I call natural laws, the 
moral obligations which right reason alone discovers 
to be necessary and indispensable ; and which pro- 
ceed even from the nature of things. For instance; 
we are all under an obligation to love God. These 



a 



12 THE^GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 

laws of nature required not to be given at first, 
otherwise than by an internal impression. They 
are so congenial to the nature of man, they result so 
necessarily from the simple use of reason, and are so 
adapted to the state of good men, that it was impos- 
sible they should not approve themselves to his rea- 
son : and as without words, without an oracle, witnV 
out an external revelation, the Angels of Heaven 
were capable of knowing their duty ; so man, by 
way of impression upon his mind and heart, was 
capable, in his state of innocency, of knowing all 
laws, both natural and moral, and of conforming 
himself to them. This appears evidently; because 
even since the fall, a conscience has been preserved 
to him, which discerns between good and evil ; and 
as St. Paul saith in the 2d. of Romans, "Even the 
" Gentiles shew the work of the law written in their 
" hearts, their conscience also hearing witness, and 
" their thoughts the mean while accusing, or else ex- 
" cusing one another/* These laws of nature, were 
moreover, accommodated to the inclination and whole 
bent of his will ; they were not combated by any 
internal principle, which was opposed to them ; man 
did not find, in himself, any thing repugnant, or con- 
trary, to these laws ; there was nothing which could 
induce him to hesitate as to the performance of his 
duty, or throw him into suspence in respect to what 
he was to do, or to leave undone. 

Over and above these laws of nature, it was alto- 
gether reasonable that he should add some positive 
commands, and that he should give to man, accord- 
ing to his good pleasure, some precept of arbitrary 
institution, that he might the better set forth his so- 
vereign and absolute right, and more fully establish 
his claim to that supreme authority, which, as Crea- 
tor, he had over his creature. In all the covenants 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 13 



which God has made, he has given to man two kinds 
of commandments ; the one of an eternal and indis- 
pensible obligation : the other of an institution pure- 
ly free and arbitrary, which God might command or 
not command. Man therefore, in his state of inno- 
cency, had also for his object, these two kinds of 
things. He received laws of these two species, since, 
besides the moral precepts, which were naturally ne- 
cessary, he received the well-known prohibition, not 
to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good 
and evil But with respect to these two kind of 
laws, " God made man upright," since he formed 
his faculties in such a state, that he knew the neces- 
sity and justice of obedience, and he had nothing in 
him which did not lead him to submit to the will of 
his Divine Master. The mere simple glimmerings of 
reason were sufficient to enable him to comprehend, 
that he ought to conform himself to the will of his 
Lord. This was sufficient to incite him to obey the 
prohibition, of eating a certain fruit. God intended 
to receive from him this mark of homage and de- 
pendence as his subject and tributary. Had he not 
a general principle of love to God, an obligation to 
gratitude, a sentiment of dependence, which excited 
him, with cheerful obedience, to render to his Sove- 
reign this small tribute of homage? With regard 
to natural laws, man had not only the same general 
motives, which excited him to conform to them ; but 
he was furnished with ideas, and particular senti- 
ments, which enabled him sufficiently to compre- 
hend, and to feel, the justice, the necessity, the beau- 
ty, the utility, of these duties. 

We may add to this, my Brethren, that God joined 
to his precepts an express threatening of death, and, 
at least, a tacit promise of life, immortality, and glo-^ 
fy. God dealt with man in a way of covenant; he 



14 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 



presented himself to him as his rewarder and bene- 
factor. He enacted his obedience under certain 
conditions ; his laws were replete with every thing 
that could render them valid,, and with whatsoever 
could lead man to obedience, and confirm him in the 
practice of his duty. What then could have been 
done for him, which the Lord did not do ? In what 
tvas God wanting, to render him righteous and up- 
right? And how can we now complain of the state 
in which God placed us, at our creation ? In a word, 
this rectitude of man, this original righteousness, 
could not but render him happy, at the same time, 
while he acted conformably to the law of God and 
of rectitude. God, according to his goodness, and 
the tenor of the covenant of nature, could not but 
render happy, at all times, a creature, who should 
have persevered in his integrity. And, if we pro- 
perly consider what this integrity includes, in itself, 
it was impossible that he should not render man 
happy, even according to the nature of things. For 
in this state, man well knew what was the chief 
good, and was always inclined to it. He knew his 
God, he loved him, he had communion with him, he 
enjoyed the assurance of his protection, and the con- 
sciousness of his love. He was tranquil, he posses- 
sed serenity of mind, peace of conscience, and health 
of body. These are the natural benefits, which ne- 
cessarily result from God having made man upright, 
and which consequently rendered him happy. 

Finally, my Brethren, you see that I do not exag- 
gerate in what I say respecting the moral rectitude 
of the first man. I seek not to amplify the subject, 
or to embellish the portrait. I say nothing of the 
knowledge which Adam might have had, and I bor- 
row nothing from the probable conjectures which 
might be formed upon it. I do not even speak of 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 15 



the immutability, or the power of preserving his life, 
which Adam certainly possessed, nor of the right of 
dominion over the rest of the creatures, which he 
received, and which doubtless constituted one of his 
most eminent prerogatives. 

I shall not amuse you with the pleasures of the 
garden of Eden, nor shall 1 describe to you, a hea- 
ven always smiling, a perpetual spring, combined 
with the fruits of autumn ; elements always in uni- 
son, an air always pure, an earth, the productions of 
which were spontaneous ; in a word, all that we can 
conceive of pleasures, in a place formed for the hap- 
piness of man, in which all things concurred to se- 
cure his felicity. This would lead us too far from 
our text, for among all the different parts which 
composed the happiness of the first man, his righte- 
ousness is chiefly spoken of. To this we ought to 
confine ourselves ; it was the principal thing, and 
that which included all others. It was that which 
man could not lose, without losing all the rest. We 
have endeavoured to give you a just idea of it. We 
shall now endeavour to explode some errors on the 
©pposite side : this shall constitute the second part 



SECOND PART. 



It is dangerous, my Brethren, to have too weak 
an idea of the righteousness of our first parents; be- 
cause, otherwise, we shall not sufficiently discrimi- 
nate the state of innocence, from that into which 
man has fallen. Hence, all who have endeavoured 
to weaken the doctrine of original sin, and to leave 
to man, after his fall, all the powers of free will, and 



16 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 



the ability of determining himself to that which is 
good ; all such have ill understood, and ill explained, 
the state of innocence ; they have given an idea of 
it either false or imperfect. This was what the Pe- 
lagians, and their abettors, did. This is what the 
Socinians do. They tell us, it is true, that man was 
created without sin, and that therefore we may at- 
tribute to him, in his creation, innocence, and an ex- 
emption from corruption and pollution. But they 
pretend that we cannot attribute to him a righteous- 
ness which is formal and positive, nor say that he 
was, properly, righteous and holy. He was, accord- 
ing to them, a clean vessel, because it was new, and 
because it had yet received no liquor. But neither 
had this vessel yet received any good tincture. It 
was like a tabie, newly planed, upon which there 
was, as yet, nothing written, no character engraved, 
whether good or evil. It was a freewill, purely and 
absolutely indifferent, like a balance, in a state of 
complete equilibrium, without any inclination, or 
determination, towards good or evil ; and in this ab- 
solute indifference, they make the essence of liberty 
to consist. They tell us, the moral righteousness of 
man, must be a thing which is voluntary, and that 
whatever is natural is not voluntary. If man was 
upright by nature, this uprightness was not worthy 
of praise ; it was not free ; nothing is praiseworthy 
but what depends upon the will ; and that no one 
can be upright, or righteous, but by the use of his 
own free will. It was nearly in this manner that 
Pelagius reasoned against St. Augustine — " All the 
" good or evil, which renders us worthy of praise or 
" dispraise, is not born with us, but is done by us. 
" We are born capable of both, but neither is inhe- 
cc rent in us." Tt is farther added, that man can be 
righteous, only by acquiring, by various repeated 
acts, the habit of righteousness,, and that he is only 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 17 



naturally inclined to seek natural good, which is ne- 
cessary to the preservation of his life ; but not moral 
good; which is necessary to render him virtuous. 

In all these things, our opponents evidence them- 
selves to be equally bad philosophers and bad divines. 
It is absolutely false, that man is inclined, only, to- 
wards that good which is necessary for his subsist- 
ence, and not towards that which is sufficient to con- 
stitute his moral perfection, and his happiness. The 
desire of knowing, and comprehending, that whicL 
is true, and the desire of being happy, and of en- 
joying that which is good, are not less natural to a 
man, than the sensations of hunger and thirst. Even 
in his present state, man can desire nothing but 
under the idea of good. He has a strong and in- 
vincible impression, which excites him to seek that 
which will render him happy. C( Who will shew us 
" any good f " is the voice of all men ; the voice of 
nature itself; and who does not see that this inclina- 
tion, this desire, is a general impression of the Author 
of our being, who draws us towards himself, as ox\V 
centre and our ultimate end. 

Secondly, it is an error to imagine, that a thing 
cannot be natural and voluntary at the same time. 
In our present state, sin is natural to us ; i. e. it is 
born with us, and, at the same time, it is voluntary, 
because it resides in the will, as in its strong hold, 
and because the will consents to it. In the state of 
innocence, righteousness and holiness were both na- 
tural and voluntary. Natural, because they were 
born with man ; i. e. man was created with them, 
a*id they proceeded from the disposition of his fa- 
culties. And, at the same time, they were voluntary, 
because the will consented to that which was just 
and right; it inclined itself,without constraint, towards 

c 



18 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE^ 



good, and produced freely, and with pleasure, good 
actions ; for instance, acts of love to God. 

In the third place, it is false that the essence of 
liberty consists in an absolute indifference, and an 
equal suspence, relative to good and evil. Liberty 
remains in creatures, even when they are impelled 
to one side or the other. Angels and glorified spi- 
rits, although infallibly determined towards good, 
love God and do good freely ; and the ungodly, in a 
state of sin, although they are wholly determined 
towards evil, nevertheless sin freely, and have not 
lost their liberty, although they have lost their incli- 
nation to good. It is true, that when we consider 
the will of man, abstracted from the spirit, before it 
produces any act, before any object, internal or ex- 
ternal, is proposed to it, before it sees, in such ob- 
ject, any character of truth or falsehood, of good- 
ness or perverseness ; the will, thus considered in 
itself, separate from reasons which determine it, and 
from the attraction which causes it to incline, may 
be considered as indeterminate, and in a state of 
equilibrium. I confess also, that man's liberty con- 
sists in a power of suspending his consent, till his 
understanding has clearly proposed the things offered 
to him. But when we consider the will, as acting, 
in reference to some object proposed to it, it is not 
true that liberty consists in suspence and indiffer- 
ence. This suspence, or this hesitation, which leaves 
the soul in doubt, c i Shall I do it, or shall I not do it ? 
<s should I love or hate ? should 1 embrace or flee 
" this object V is a defect. It is either a bad use of 
our liberty, or an imperfection, which proceeds from 
some failing, either in the object itself, or in the 
thing it proposes to us, or in the manner in which 
we consider it. If the rational creature always saw 
what is true and right, and what is not only good 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 1 9 

but what is the best, in the comparison of two 
things ; and if it had sufficient strength, strongly to 
attach itself to that which is just and right, it would 
never be long in suspence or embarrassment, res- 
pecting its choice. Although constantly free, it 
would never remain long indifferent. It is sufficient, 
in order to preserve its essential liberty, that it should 
suspend its consent, till it is convinced of what it 
ought to do ; that it should determine only by the 
knowledge, and dictates, of the understanding ; and 
that it should not determine till it has sufficient light; 
so that, whether it flees an object, or embraces it, it 
may always feel that it is not necessitated, or com- 
pelled, by any thing external J but that it is excited 
to do it knowingly, by choice, and with full consent. 
Could the first man, for instance, be in suspence, 
whether he ought to love God or not ? It would be 
absurd to imagine this. It is true, that, before man 
had any actual thought, and when no one object 
had been proposed to him, we may easily conceive 
of him, without any actual determination. The man 
who does not act, who has not yet determined, may 
be looked on as undecided, and undetermined, as 
touching the act ; although, at the same time, he 
might have an habitual inclination ; I mean, a cer- 
tain disposition in his faculties, which inclines him 
more to one thing than to another. But from the 
time that he acts, that he actually thinks, and pro- 
poses to himself an object, it is impossible that he 
should remain long undetermined. But although 
man did not long remain in a state of innocence, 
had he not already made use of his faculties ? Had 
he not known God as his creator? He did not then 
remain indifferent, he had performed some acts 
which were morally good ; he was determined on 
the side of virtue, although he was not yet confirm- 
ed in the habit of it, but was still mutable, and liable 

c 2 



20 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 

to be turned aside to vice, by a strong temptation. 
No, no, to imagine man in a state, in which he knew 
his God, and yet to have no disposition towards him, 
would be to imagine him created in a state, which 
was evil and blameable. If he had been indifferent 
as to his love and hatred of God, he would have been 
in a vicious state, opposed to his destination. To, 
be so near the neighbourhood of vice and virtue, 
without any inclination towards the latter, rather 
than the former, is a state of inconvenience and 
blame. 

In a word, it is not true, strictly speaking, that 
man was only as a newly planed table ; since God 
gave him certain original ideas, which remain with 
us, even to this day ; since he engraved upon his 
heart the law of nature ; since he made him to know 
him both inwardly and by external revelation. We 
may then conclude, that the innocence of the first 
man, did not consist, merely, in his not having com- 
mitted any sin, and that his uprightness was not 
similar to that of children, without malice ; he was 
created at man's estate, in an age of reason ; in 
which the imperfections of the organs could not 
weaken his operations, and in a state, in which the 
motions of the body could not lead him too much 
towards sensible things. He was invested with the 
knowledge of his Creator, and with moral qualities, 
sufficient to put him into a state to serve and glorify 
this Creator ; e( God hath made man upright." 

Hence, we may learn, still further, what we ought 
to believe, from various questions agitated among the 
learned, and of divers errors, maintained by a con- 
siderable number of the Doctors of the Romish Com- 
munion. They ask, for instance, if Adam, created 
in a mutable state, had, before his fall, any inclina- 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 21 



tion to sin ? They ask farther, if, in his creation, 
there was not in him some struggles between reason 
and the passions ? If there were not, in his body, 
some agitations, and some of the first seeds of con- 
cupiscence ? Solomon shall answer this question : 
? Lo, this only have I found/' says he, " that God 
<: hath made man upright" Vain and daring men ! 
will you presume to know more of this matter than 
the wisest of kings ? or will you combat his decision ? 
" Gvd hath made man upright/' and consequently, 
he had not in him any inclination to sin. Do you 
intend to reflect upon the Creator, in order to dimi- 
nish the sin of the creature ? Should not the defect 
of the work be imputed to him who has caused it ? 
Will you maintain, that the sickness of the human 
race, had its source in the Author of nature ? Is 
not this to wound the holiness, the goodness, and the 
justice of God? Was he not able to accomplish a 
work without defect? No, no; righteousness was 
natural to our first parents. The generality of the 
Romish Clergy rather choose to say, that it was 
supernatural. They are of opinion, that it was a 
gift added to nature, as a kind of golden curb, to re- 
strain its sensual appetites, and as a remedy, to for- 
tify feeble nature itself, on account of the body, and 
the earthly matter of which it was composed. In- 
nocence, according to them, was a beautiful robe, 
a splendid garment, with which God adorned his 
creature. But as a garment is no part of him who 
wears it, this righteousness might be added to, or 
taken from, our nature, and then man, in his inno- 
cency, and man in his fallen state, would differ, only 
as a man clothed, and as a man naked and bare. 

My Brethren, if this question is only about words, 
it is of little importance, whether we call the righte- 
ousness of Adam natural, or supernatural. We 

c 3 



22 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 



will even acknowledge that it was not natural, in a 
certain sense, i. e. essential to man, and insepa- 
rable from his existence. But we call it natu- 
ral, because it was born with him, because it 
was conformable to his nature, and to the design 
of his creation • because it was given of God for the 
perfection of human nature, and constituted its glory. 
It was to the soul, similar to what "health is to the 
body. If any one asks, whether or not health is 
natural to the human body? it is easy to answer, 
that it is not one of those things which constitute the 
essence of our being ; that it is not essential, and in- 
separable from man ; but, at the same time, it is na- 
tural, as it is congenial to the most perfect state of 
our nature. We cannot say that health was a su- 
pernatural gift to man in his creation ; for God be- 
stowed it, as an appendage necessary to a perfect 
nature, a perfection of the human body, and an ex- 
cellent quality, which must be in his work, as it 
came out of his hands. It was absolutely necessary 
for the perfection of the work, and for the glory of 
its Author, that it should be created in health, i. e. in 
a state of righteousness. On the other hand, when 
men conceive of original righteousness, as something 
foreign, to fortify it, and restrain its appetites, they 
are not aware, that, in the fall of man, they re- 
present God as accessary to sin, since he must have 
•• /; ill drawn his gifts from innocent man, in order to 
permit him to fall. What! is not the man who 
takes away a remedy, without which I must inevita- 
bly die, guilty of my dca v «h, at least m part? Is he 
who takes away the curb, without which I cannot 
avoid the precipice, entirely innocent of my fall? 
In our present state, we understand how God may 
continue, or withdraw, his gifts and grace from those 
io whom he has given them - because, rebellious 
man, for his sins, frequently deserves to be deprived ' 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 23 

of those gifts, which he has neglected, or abused. 
But that God withdrew from man, in his innocence, 
a grace which he had given him, and which was ne- 
cessary to prevent his fall, is what we cannot com- 
prehend ; it very ill accords with the goodness and 
wisdom of God. But after having rejected the false 
ideas, which have been formed, upon the uprightness 
of the first man, it will be proper to confirm, by ad- 
ditional arguments, what we have already said upon 
the subject ; and this will compose our last part. 



THIRD PART. 

H Entreat you, in the first place, my Brethren, to 
pay attention to what Moses has told us ; that God, 
after the creation of the world, and the formation of 
man, "saw every thing that he had made, and] be- 
" hold, it zoas very good." He represents the Cre- 
ator as causing all his works to pass before him. 
This Infinite Artificer visits all that he had made, he 
surveys it on every side, he sees if there be any thing 
wanting to complete the whole, or to make every 
part of this grand machine perfect in its kind, and 
adapted to the end for which he had created it. He 
finds nothing in it defective, the whole answers to 
the plan which he had drawn out, he rejoices over it, 
he applands it, he approves of the work of his hands. 
I say, this necessarily supposes that man also, was 
found good in his kind, perfect, and fully answering 
the end of his creation. Would God have rendered 
his other works complete and perfect, in their kind, 
and leave man, who was his masterpiece, imperfect 
and defective ? Would he not have been very de^ 
fective, if he had been void of moral good, merely 
indifferent to good or evil, without any virtue, any 



24 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 

moral qualities, which were praiseworthy ? I know 
there are men, who tell us, that when God saw that 
all his works were good, it means only a natural, 
and not a moral, goodness ; that it only points out 
the perfection of each creature, in its kind, and the 
state in which God had placed it, to dwell in the 
universe, and to fill up its place among the other 
parts of this great whole. But, undoubtedly, these 
men deceive themselves. This approbation, expres- 
sed in general, must be accommodated, and applied, 
to each thing, according to its nature. It is true, 
that, in respect to the brute creation, and to beings 
inanimate, and destitute of wisdom and reason, it 
means no more than their natural goodness, the 
physical and essential perfection of each of them, 
according to their kind. But with regard to rational 
beings, they could be good, only by the perfection 
of their reason ; they could not be worthy of the ap- 
probation of their Creator, without moral goodness. 
Man, according to his state of nature, and according 
to God's design of sending him into the world, could 
not be good, if his faculties were not morally so. 
He was created for the service and glory of God ; 
this was the end, and he could not have answered 
it, if he had been destitute of righteousness and 
uprightness. 

We should observe, in the second place, my Bre- 
thren, that God created man in his own image, and 
that the image of God, according to St. Paul, consists 
" in righteousness and true holiness." Does it not 
follow, that God created man with an inherent 
righteousness, and a disposition morally good? It 
js true, that our opponents pretend, that the image 
of God, in the creation, principally consisted in the 
dominion, that God gave Adam, over all the rest of 
his creatures. And, it must be confessed, that this 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 25 



kind of dominion,, or sovereignty, over the other 
creatures of this lower world, was a considerable 
part of the image of the Creator. But this prero- 
gative was not the whole of the image of God. 
Man was made to resemble God in many respects, 
The spirituality of his soul, the liberty of his will, 
and the immortality in which he might glory, were 
other parts of this resemblance, other excellent fea- 
tures of this image. Above all, righteousness, holi- 
ness, and moral perfection, were necessary parts of 
that conformity which he had to his Divine Author. 
Since then, in his creation, he was stamped with the 
other impressions of resemblance, we may say that 
he also received that of uprightness and righteous- 
ness, which render us, in some measure, "partakers 
■ c of the divine nature," as St. Peter observes ; and 
which is, more than any other, the brightness of his 
glory, the divine stamp of his perfections. This is 
the principal thing, by which we may be most con- 
formed to him. 

Under the Jewish dispensation, the High Priest 
carried a plate of gold upon his forehead, with these 
words, " Holiness to the Lord." We may say that 
Adam was the High Priest of the most High God. 
God placed him in this world, as in a temple, to re- 
ceive from him the worship and adoration, which 
were his due. And in order that he might consecrate 
him to this office, and inaugurate him into the priest- 
hood, he anointed him with the gifts and graces of 
knowledge and virtue. He gave him, not splendid 
robes, but admirable qualities ; and he engraved, not 
upon his forehead, but upon his soul; not upon a 
plate of gold, cc but upon the fleshly tables of his 
f< heart >" not by the hand of some artificer, but with 
his own finger; the true characters of holiness. They 
were not there, merely, as a title, or inscription, nor 



26 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 

as a memorial or figure ; they were there by the real 
impression of the image of God. We read in the 
41st. of Genesis, that Pharaoh said to Joseph, " see, 
" I have set thee over all the land of Egypt." And 
afterwards, as a mark, and earnest, of this high dig- 
nity, <c he took off his ring from his hand, and 
(t put upon Joseph's hand." What honor for this 
foreigner ! But God did much more for Adam. He 
was under no obligation to man, and he set him over 
all the works of his hands, and gave him his image,, 
which he stamped upon him. O, the admirable 
ring ! how was it adorned with the most precious 
and brilliant diamonds ! how pleasing, and dazzling, 
must have been these stones! Happy had man been^ 
if he had not lost this royal ring, or if he had not 
permitted the most brilliant of the stones to be taken 
from it. Do you wish, my Brethren, a further proof, 
in order to convince you that God made man upright, 
in the creation ? Take notice, I entreat you, of the 
ruins of this grand masterpiece, and the desolations 
of our innocence ; the broken remains of our ship- 
wreck; I mean, that which still remains, in fallen 
man ; that knowledge of good and evil, that consci- 
ousness, that sense of integrity ; those general ideas 
that he hath preserved ! Whence come such excel- 
lent remains ? Whence is it that relics, so precious, 
are preserved to us, unless from that integrity, and 
that original excellency,, which God gave to us ? We ' 
admire the grand works, the masterpieces, of sculp- 
ture and architecture, not only when they are stand- 
ing, and in a perfect state, but sometimes, even when 
they are broken, and shattered, upon the ground. — 
It is not only while the temples are standing, that we 
say with the disciples of Jesus at Jerusalem, cc see 
" what buildings are here." When they are even 
in ruins, these very ruins often impress us with 
astonishment : and hence it is that we judge of the 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 27 



grandeur, and beauty/ of ancient edifices. The tra- 
veller still examines the relics of the pyramids, and 
the wonders of which antiquity boasts : and at the 
sight of these ruins, which he endeavours to disen- 
gage from the earth, which covers them, he cries 
out; judge by these, what were these mosques, these 
amphitheatres, these grand statues, these ancient 
palaces. We may know what we once were, by 
what we now are. Through the horrors of our 
scattered remains, and under the confused desolation 
of our fallen nature, do we not perceive the excel- 
lency of our original condition ? I confess, that at 
the present time, all is in confusion, the marble, the 
plaster, the gold, the silver, with the earth and the 
dust. Vice and virtue, good and evil, light and dark- 
ness, are so blendid in us, that they are a perfect 
chaos. But, at the same time, is it not easy to re- 
mark, in the midst of all this, what was the beauty of 
our nature, when all these were in a state of regu- 
larity and order ? When we discern, in some hea- 
thens, so much excellent knowledge, so many prin- 
ciples of wisdom ; is not this a mark that God made 
man upright ? I shall produce but one proof more 
upon this subject, which may be inferred from 
that which takes place in our restoration. Is there 
not some similarity between innocent nature, and 
nature restored ? Does not the scripture continually 
compare these two states together ? Do we not call 
it being renewed, cc after the image of him who 
" created ns ?" The work of grace is to form in us 
a new man, which is as a creature, re-established, 
made new : and the second creation, our new birth, 
our reparation, consists in the re-establishment of 
righteousness and holiness in our souls. Conse- 
quently, our original excellence also, consisted in 
righteousness and holiness. I mean, that now in a 
state of grace, or rather, that one day, in a state of 



§8 THE GLORY OP THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE* 



glory,, we may say of man, raised tip and restored by 
Jesus Christ, of this new temple of the divinity, re- 
built; ec the glory of this latter house, shall be 
" greater than of the former " It is certainly true, 
that the comparison of the one with the other, suffi- 
ciently discovers to us, that the glory of the first was 
very great; and this is enough to justify what the 
wise man says, and what we wish to explain to you, 
to-day, that " God hath made man upright/* 



CONCLUSION. 



IFerhaps, you will conclude, Christians, that we 
have dwelt too long upon that which has been, but 
which is no more ; upon a state which was glorious, 
but of short duration, of which we retain no more 
than a confused, and sorrowful, remembrance. When 
W r e are in a state of poverty and misery, what advant- 
age is it to remember the glory of our ancestors, and 
the brilliancy of that fortune which hath not descend- 
ed to us ? Upon the dunghill, and in the misery of 
poverty ; what advantage is it to remember that we 
are of noble extraction, at the present time, when all 
the posterity of Adam are like the wounded man in 
the parable, whom the thieves left weltering in his 
blood ? Why recal to our remembrance the time, 
when our first father was in a state of health and 
vigor ? My Brethren, it is but too true that we are 
now very far from our original innocence ; man is 
awfully changed ; ie the erown of Israel is fallen, 
t{ and his honor is laid in the dust ;" at the same 
time, it is useful for us to consider, what man was in 
a state of innocence, so as to justify God with respect 
to sin, that we may the better conceive what we now 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 29 

are : that we may more feelingly regret what we 
have lost, and labour with more diligence to regain 
it. After all, if we have no longer this robe of inno- 
cence, which constituted our chief ornament, upon 
whom shall we throw the blame but upon ourselves ? 
I grant that the evil beast which hath torn it, and 
made it bloody, is the Devil ; but, as we intend to 
shew you in another discourse, the Devil could not 
have done it, if we had not consented, and if we had 
not assisted him with our own hands. 

Let us give honor to whom honor is due, blame to 
whom blame is due. Let us give glory to God ; let 
God be always acknowledged as righteous and holy, 
and man altogether guilty. " God hath made man 
te upright." His goodness, his wisdom, his holiness, 
so appointed it. This uprightness could not be taken 
away from man without his consent ; he could not 
lose it, but by his own negligence. God endued him 
with a nature that was perfect; he prescribed to him 
rules and laws ; he gave him a covenant of promises 
and threatenings, in order to confirm him in his duty. 
What could he have done more, whether in the cha- 
racter of Creator, or in the quality of a Legislator ? 
" He left man to his own free will" as the son of 
Sirach observes, <c giving him his commandments. 
If thou wilt" he said unto him, (c thou shalt keep 
" the commandments, and they also shall keep thee, 
" and shall show thee my faithfulness, in to hick I 
(C shall be well pleased." That is to say, in keeping 
my commandments, thou shalt live, thou shalt be 
happy, thou shalt cause me to discover my faithful- 
ness, and my goodness unto thee. I shall take plea- 
sure in rewarding, and in increasing, thy felicity; so 
that thou shalt persevere in the state in which 1 
place thee. I place thee in it, it is true, as in a 
state of probation, in order to try thy love and obe-, 



SO THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 

dience; I desire that thy righteousness, which is 
natural to thee, in its origin, should also be volun- 
tary, and that thy obedience should be IVee in its 
operations. But I must inform thee, that thou may'st 
fall, that thou may'st die, and forfeit my favour ; and 
I now threaten thy disobedience with death : is not 
this sufficient to induce thee to be wise and prudent ? 
What shall we say to these things ? Shall we listen 
to the murmurs of impiety, which tend to accuse 
God? "No, let every mouth be stopped:" let us 
hold fast what Solomon says : God was the author of 
our innocence ; we are the authors of our sin. The 
potsherd hath no reason to say to the potter, " why 
" hast thou made me thus ?" But when the pots- 
herd hath been made a vessel of honor, and after- 
wards becomes a vessel of wrath, of itself, why doth 
it yet find fault ? 

Let us also, my Brethren, call to remembrance our 
primitive state, that we may be the better acquainted 
with the misery of our present condition. The glory 
of our original state ought to make us blush, on 
account of what we are at present. Behold thyself, 
sinner, in the glass of the innocency of thy first 
father : O how different is thy state from what his 
was ! Poor sick mortals, who groan under corrupti- 
ble bodies, remember that your nature was healthy, 
in its original composition, and lament over that 
health which you have lost! It is true, that we can 
no more become, in this world, such as Adam was in 
his creation ; the way into the terrestrial paradise is 
no longer found. But you know, that, by the grace 
of God in Christ Jesus, and by the benefits of the 
covenant of mercy, which he hath established, we 
may regain the love of God, and blessings far 
greater than those which accompanied our original 
state. Repentance and holiness are the means of re- 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 31 



storing- us to the image of God, and of our entering 
into communion with him. Nothing is therefore more 
useful, or more necessary, than to deplore our ru- 
ined condition, to weep bitterly over our loss, and to 
form a just idea of our primitive happiness, that we 
may endeavour to regain it. Even the wise hea- 
thens have acknowledged, that the soul, now de- 
graded from its original excellence, ought to make 
every possible effort in order to regain it ; that hav- 
ing greatly degenerated from its origin, it should 
retrace in itself, the idea of its ancient purity, that it 
may endeavour to regain it. Come then, criminal 
man, "remember from whence thou art fallen, and 
" repent." When the merchant hath lost his goods, 
by his negligence, or his bad management, when the 
prodigal hath wasted his substance with riotous 
living, when the man hath sold himself for a slave, 
when the traveller hath fallen into the ditch by his 
own imprudence ; or when the sick man is brought 
into that state by his excesses ; they do not recover 
their health, their liberty, their property * they are 
not brought out of the state in which they have 
placed themselves, by simply condemning themselves, 
and weeping over their losses. But it is a consider- 
able relief to the children of Adam, to deplore the 
sin of their first father, and their own, and to be 
deeply sensible of the loss of that integrity, which, 
in the beginning, constituted the ornament of our 
nature. We may apply to ourselves what Job said 
in the 29th. chapter; " O that I were as in months 
"past, as in the days when God preserved me ; — 
" when the Almighty ivas yet with me — / put on 
" righteousness, and it clothed me — my judgment 
" was as a robe and a diadem; my glory was fresh 
"in me." Adam might well* speak thus, after his 
fall i and, as in sin, we are become what he was, and 
as what he lost he lost for himself and for us, may 



32 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE, 



we not also with propriety say ; who will enable me 
to be as I was, in that happy time, in which there 
was no stain upon our nature, no separation between 
us and God ? Did not the prodigal son, after hav- 
ing wasted his substance, act wisely, in calling 
to mind the state in which he had been, in his 
father's house ? Then it was, that he said, is I will 
"arise and go to my father and by his return, 
he recovered all that he had lost. The woman, 
after having lost her piece of money, searched dili- 
gently till she found it. Our money was our inno- 
cence ; it was as a piece of gold, the coin that God 
had given us, stamped with his own image. We 
have lost our money; shall we give ourselves no 
trouble about this loss ? and shall we not seek to re- 
pair it ? It is not sufficient to say, with the afflicted 
woman, upon the loss of the ark, cc Ichabod, the glory 
" is departed from Israel the innocency of man 
is destroyed. We must rescue the ark from the 
hands of the Philistines. We must recover our 
souls from the snare of the Devil, and extricate our 
righteousness from the ruins under which it is buried. 
Nebuchadnezzar, driven from among men, and 
obliged to eat grass with the beasts ; at length lifted 
' up his eyes to heaven, when his senses returned to 
him ; he gave glory to God, and, in consequence of 
which, {c the glory of his kingdom, his honor, and 
V his brightness returned to him." The first man, 
who was in honor, having failed in knowledge, is 
become like the beasts which perish. But, O man, 
if thou continuest in the rank of brutes, thou who 
wert made a little lower than the angels ; call to 
mind thy creation, let thy senses and memory return 
to thee ! lift up thy eyes to the Creator of all things ! 
Lord, I have disfigured thy work, thou didst make 
our nature upright ! But the sin of our first parents, 
which is mine, by imputation, by propagation, by 



AND THE MISERY OF THE FALL OF MAN. 33 



imitation ; this sin of Adam, and my own, have de- 
prived me of this uprightness. Deign to revive in 
me thy image, and give me an everlasting righteous- 
ness, instead of that which I have lost. 

My Brethren, would it not be a great thing, if we 
were able to regain, through grace, the same privi- 
leges which Adam enjoyed in his original state? 
But, thanks be to God, we shall recover more, through 
the second Adam, than we have lost by the first. It 
is said, that a man having requested of Alexander 
the Great, to give him ten talents, to marry his 
daughters with, saying that this would be amply suf- 
ficient, the king answered, this would be enough for 
Perillus, but not enough for Alexander. Instead of 
ten talents, he gave him fifty. If God had asked 
man, after his fall, what wilt thou that I should give 
thee ? Alas, it would have been a great thing for 
us, to have restored to us our primitive innocence 
and happiness. Lord, we should have said, restore 
to us our Eden, and our original integrity ! Restore 
to us the portion of our first parents, and that shall 
suffice ! But it appears, as if God said unto us, that 
which would have been sufficient for you, is not 
enough for my almighty power and infinite good- 
ness ; that which would have been more than you 
deserve, would be too little, in reference to the merits 
of my Son. Instead of the earth, I will give you 
heaven ; instead of a changeable righteousness, I 
will give you an everlasting righteousness, and a 
happiness which shall never change ! He shall not 
do as David did, who, in re-establishing Mephibo- 
sheth, restored to him only the half of the riches he 
had aforetime given him ; God gives us an hundred 
times more than we had ! It is true, that, here, we 
recover our holiness and happiness only in part, and 
that we still feel the effects of the fall. But, here- 

D 



34 THE GLORY OF THE ORIGINAL INNOCENCE. 

after, our nature shall be a thousand times more 
glorified, than in the creation. Then it is, that we 
shall see cc all things put under our feet/' and eter- 
nally praise and adore him who hath set us upon the 
throne, that we may reign eternally with his Son ! 
To whom, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be 
honor and glory, world without end ! AMEN. 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



SERMON II. 

Ecclesiastes, vii Chap* 29 Verse. 

rf Lo } this only have I found, that God hath made 
man upright, but they have sought out many 
inventions.'* 

My Brethren, 

^IThERE is great pleasure in the investigation of 
the causes of all the phgenomaena ; that is to say, of 
all the visible effects that are remarked in the world. 
Never was any age more inquisitive, in this respect, 
than our's. The astronomer wishes to account for 
all that he perceives in the heavenly bodies; the 
philosopher, for all that he observes in the whole 
course of nature ; the chemist is desirous of account- 
ing for all his experiments ; the physician applies 
himself to the discovery of every thing that takes 
place in the human body. And, in these various 
sciences, they whose hypothesis, and sentiments, are 
calculated to explain, in the most rational and con- 
nected manner, the different effects which they have 
observed, justly pass for the most learned men. 
The politician, also, uses intrigue, to discover the 
origin of events, and of all things, of importance, 

d 2 



36 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 

which take place in different governments. He en- 
deavours to penetrate into the origin of great events, 
and to point out their reasons, principles, and au- 
thors. And it is well known, that historians do not 
consider that they have sufficiently developed the 
things which they have published, unless they have 
endeavoured to discover the motives, the beginnings, 
and the progress of them. 

My Brethren, there is, in the world, a fact too 
undeniable; which is, thai man is wicked, and cor- 
rupt. There is, in the history of the human race, 
one event, more considerable, and of much greater 
consequence, than all others ; which is, the introduc- 
tion of sin. There is a very surprising pheenomsenon, 
which is, sin in a reasonable soul ; this moral evil, 
this corruption, which infects the whole man. From 
whence cometh this corruption, which hath so gene- 
ral an influence upon the human race, which occu- . 
pies so considerable a part in all the events of history, 
which is the cause of so many particular vices, and 
the source of that 'perpetual contradiction which is 
found in man ? Whence cometh this moral evil, 
which carries in its train so many physical evils, so 
many sufferings, calamites, and afflictions ? Will the 
Astronomer find out the cause in some malignant in- 
fluences of the stars ? or the Philosopher in that ter- 
restrial matter of which our bodies are composed ? 
Will man ascribe it to God, by throwing the blame, 
even, upon the author of his being? or shall we sup- 
pose an evil principle, equal in power to the true 
God, which must have rendered us wicked, in spite of 
ourselves? Never shall we thus, properly, explain 
this dreadful event. For a long time since, the 
human mind has found itself embarrassed upon this 
subject. Thus it is, that the things which are the 
most obvious, and visible, have nevertheless, a con- 



MAN. DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 37 

cealed origin. A river, which rolls its waters with a 
noise, in a large channel, hath sometimes, a source 
which is unknown. The inhabitants of Ethiopia and 
Egypt, see the Nile roll, and their land covered with 
its slimy waters, without knowing whence they take 
their rise. A nation sometimes sees itself desolated 
by a war, of the principles, and motives, of which, 
they are ignorant. A whole city shall be thrown into 
agitation, by a sedition, the beginning of which it is 
difficult to discover, as well as the ring leader ; and 
individuals find themselves in the midst of a dreadful 
conflagration, without even knowing how it began. 
Thus it is, that great things have frequently small be- 
ginnings ; and an obscure origin, to which it is not 
easy to refer. The entrance of sin into the world, 
would be, of all others, the most difficult of the things 
which are either unknown, or which, after so many 
ages, are hardest to discover, w ithout the aid of reve- 
lation. But with this clue to guide us, we easily re- 
trace the turnings and windings of this labyrinth, up 
to the fountain of so great an eyij. Here it is, that 
we learn, that man lost, by his own sin, that happy 
innocence, in which God created him. And, if we 
wish, upon this subject, to have a witness worthy of 
credit, let us hearken to one of the most inqusitive and 
learned men that ever existed ; who, after many re- 
searches and reflections, cried out, " Lo 3 this only 
(e have I found, that God hath made man upright, 
" but they have sought out many inventions." You, 
no doubt, remember, my Brethren, that when we 
began to explain this text, we told you, that we should 
present to you a double portrait ; that of man in inno- 
cency, and that of man in a state of guilt : and that, 
in attributing the glory of our first state to our Crea- 
tor, the shame, and reproach, of our loss would de- 
volve upon ourselves. We then confined ourselves 
to the consideration of our state of integrity ; and we 

d 3 



38 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



reserved for another opportunity, the consideration 
of the fall, which is the reverse, and the unfavourable 
side of the picture. Therefore we must now apply 
ourselves, to the accomplishment of our task. I hope 
you will successfully follow us in the examination of 
the two principal truths, into which our discourse 
will be divided. The first is, " That man is no longer 
" what he was when he came out of the hands of the 
" Creator." He hath lost his purity and his glory ; 
and we shall endeavour to shew you how this took 
place. The second truth is, " That this alteration 
"must be imputed to man, and not to God." " They 
" have" saith the text, "they have sought out many 
" inventions." May the Lord enable us to walk 
surely, by the light of his word, and under the direc- 
tion of his holy spirit, that we may be conducted into 
the way of his truth, upon these important subjects, 
to his glory, and our common salvation. AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 

I^TaN is no longer what he was in his creation. 
He is totally changed. This appears by the opposi- 
tion which the wise man puts between the two states 
of human nature, "ho" saith he, "this only have 
" I found, that God hath made man upright, but 
" they have sought out many inventions " Oh, 
what a difference is there, between man in innocency, 
and man fallen ! How great is the distance between 
the one state, and the other! We may say, as Abra- 
ham did to the rich man, but in a different sense, 
" between us and you, there is a great gulph fixed " 
Oh! our ancient happiness, our ancient glory ; how 
are we now separated from you, by a gulph difficult 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 39 



to discover! The passage hath been but too quick, 
and too easy, from happiness to misery, from inno- 
cence to sin ; but oh ! how difficult is the return from 
sin to innocence ! It is naturally impossible, we can- 
not fully accomplish it here below, and see the con- 
sequences of our " having sought out many inven- 
" Hons/ 3 Come then, human beings, deplore your 
misery, and trace it to its origin! Come and see 
Adam ; he is no, longer that man, perfect in all his 
faculties — in the possession of all his powers. He is 
a defiled leper, " from the sole of the foot, even unto 
" the head;" with the veil of shame upon his face, his 
head bald, his clothes rent, and a shameful naked- 
ness! He is a man destitute of all righteousness, in- 
fected with a loathsome disease, which hath spread 
all over him, and hath left no sound place in him. 
He may apply to himself what Job said, on another 
occasion, in the 19th. chapter of his book^ and say of 
sin, "It hath fenced up my way, that I cannot pass, 
" it hath set darkness in my paths ; it hath stripped 
" me of my glory, and taken the crown from my 
<( head. It hath destroyed me on every side, and I 
" am gone." Adam and his posterity, " are all gone 
" out of the way ; they are together become unpro' 
"fitable" I shall not here enlarge, to prove to you 
a thing, which scripture and experience so evidently 
confirm ; let us rather make some observations on 
this change. 

" They have sought out many inventions," saith 
Solomon, or rather, according to the form of the 
Hebrew expression, "many thoughts, reasonings, 
" and words" He intends to speak of both the man 
and the woman, and of what took place in their 
temptation, in reasoning with the enemy, and hold- 
ing a conversation with him, who sought their ruin; 
they flattered themselves with " becoming as Gods 3 



40 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



"knowing good and evil;" they conceived thoughts 
of infidelity — distrust — pride — and ambition. Hence 
it comes, that the wise man makes use of the term 
" many ;" many words, many thoughts. They ought 
to have had only one, always at hand, and always 
fixed in their minds ; which was to obey their Creator, 
and not to listen to any thing which might cause 
them to hesitate, one moment, upon that obedience. 
But they turned aside from that simplicity, from 
that singleness of intention, that uniformity of con- 
duct, in which they ought to have persevered. They, 
unhappily, lost sight of that fixed point which ought 
to have been their pole, the director of their course, 
and thus they are seen to wander from their chief 
good. They have, in various ways, gone astray, 
without hope of extricating themselves, tost hither 
and thither, on a tempestuous sea, dashed against the 
rocks, and, in a word, lost in the vanity of their own 
thoughts. The truth is one, the good way is the only 
one ; but error and sin have a thousand different 
forms, a thousand paths which intersect each other, 
and which are all opposed to the good way. When 
once we are engaged in seeking out many ideas, we 
lose the simple way of truth and virtue. It is there- 
fore with the greatest propriety, that Solomon op- 
poses to the uprightness of the first man, the multi- 
titude of thoughts and false reasonings, which he 
sought out when he fell. There is even some ap- 
pearance of this expression having some reference 
to that, inquisitive, desire after knowledge, which was 
the snare by which Adam and Eve suffered them- 
selves to be taken. We may further observe, that 
the Hebrew word, - c Rabbirn/' which signifies many, 
or much, signifies also great, so that it may be very 
well translated, " but the?//' that is to say, Adam and 
Eve, " have sought out many inventions of great- 
fe mss 3 of elevation, thoughts which are great ana] 



I 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 41 

fC ambitious alluding to that, with which the Devil 
flattered them, " you shall be as Gods." Did not 
Adam and Eve, in effect, give way to these vain 
thoughts of greatness ? We may apply to them 
what is said in the 14th. of Isaiah, " how art thou 
"fallen from heaven, Lucifer, son of the morn- 
" ing ! for thou hast said in thine heart, I will 
" ascend into heaven, I icill be like the Most High. 3 ' 
See what it was that caused their fall ! Whilst they 
imitated the pride of the Devil, who infused into 
them his poison ; whilst they flattered themselves 
with happiness, from sensual pleasure, by eating of 
fruit which was beautiful and desirable ; and from 
the pleasures of the mind, by becoming wise, and 
capable of discerning good and evil : whilst their 
desires served as wings to carry them up to heaven, 
and whilst they aspired after knowledge, greatness, 
and independence ; see them suddenly cast down, 
like the arch Rebel, the apostate Angel, who seduced 
them ! 

But you will ask, since it was the Devil, who se- 
duced our first parents, why does Solomon tell us, 
that " they have sought out many inventions?" 
They did not seek to destroy themselves, they were 
in a state of simplicity, and purity of heart, when the 
Serpent tempted them. My Brethren, the words of 
the wise man ought not to be extended beyond their 
just bounds. He does not here oppose man to Satan, 
but man to God ; he wishes to inform us that man 
fell by his own iniquity; that God, who was the 
author of his innocence, was not the author of his 
sin ; that his fall was voluntary. It is true, that there 
is this difference between the fall of man, and that 
of the apostate Angel ; that, in the fall of the Angel, 
there was no outward tempter ; there was not, at that 
time, any malicious being to seduce the rest. It was 



42 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF 



the rebellious and proud Angel, who sought, of him- 
self, and in himself, many bad inventions; thoughts 
of pride and ambition. We see nothing in the 
Bible, or in right reason, which can induce us to 
believe, that any temptation from without, solicited 
the Angels to evil. If one of them drew away all the 
rest, he, at least, drew destruction upon himself; was 
the sole cause of his own ruin. He had no one to 
whom to impute blame but himself. Whereas man 
is more to be pitied, and excused, because he was 
attacked by an enemy, deceived by an adversary, who 
was crafty and designing. At the same time, though 
he did not fall without being excited to it, it is never- 
theless certain, that " he hath sought out many in- 
" ventions ;" and that he is guilty of his own destruc- 
tion, because he readily consented to his seduction, 
and derived from his own heart, a part of those rea- 
sons, which unhappily seduced him. Satan held out 
to him the bait, and the hook ; but he greedily swal- 
lowed it. He readily lent his ear, whilst his heart 
was almost undefended. Where is his conflict ? 
where his resistance ? Eve defended herself, for a 
short time, and then delivered up her arms. Adam 
was overcome by the words, and example, of his 
wife. The former received, and embraced, the pro- 
mises of the Devil ; the second did the same, when 
those promises were repeated to him, by one whom 
he so tenderly loved. They both drank in the poi- 
son, as the fish drinks in the water. After all, Satan 
did not force them, he did not, necessarily, constrain 
them. He only presented to them apparent reasons ; 
and, if their hearts entered into these false reasons, 
if he suggested to them that which favored the temp- 
tation, is it not just to say, " they have sought out 
" many inventions ?" that is, they have voluntarily 
consented to suggestions, which were false and 
dangerous. 



"MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF 



43 



The great difficulty, therefore, is to know how it 
was possible for man, who was pure and upright, 
with that original righteousness, which we described 
in our former sermon ; how this man could so easily 
leave his original state, and fall into sin ? My Bre- 
thren, here it is that it becomes us to deplore the vain 
imaginations of the human mind, and the unhappy 
faculty it possesses, of creating difficulties, and of 
embarrassing itself in things hard to be understood. 
This it is, upon which we may say, that man, after 
having lost himself, in (C seeking out many inven- 
" lions," adds to the number of his errors, by invent- 
ing objections respecting his own fall, as if he wished 
to render it doubtful, or to justify himself, by render- 
ing it difficult to comprehend. In this, man acts in 
a manner similar to that by which some animals en- 
deavour to conceal their dens. By means of a thou- 
sand confused traces, which they make upon the 
same road, they so intersect the paths, with their 
steps, that we find the greatest difficulty in discover- 
ing their retreat. The difficulties which are thrown 
in the way, respecting the fall of man, are the efforts 
of our depraved mind and corrupt heart, which would 
gladly hide from itself its misery, by losing sight of 
its source, or by throwing the whole blame upon fate, 
necessity, temptation ; or, in other words, upon God 
and the Devil. Thus it is that they who wish to 
conceal their march from the enemy, raise a great 
dust behind them, that no one may be able to see 
them. But in vain have we done this; we cannot 
release ourselves from that just reproach of being the 
authors of our own destruction. That it is difficult 
to comprehend how innocent man could fall, I readily 
grant. We are not acquainted with the whole of the 
temptation, in detail, and still less with the secret 
thoughts of Adam and Eve. We know not what 
were the connection and dependance of them, what 



44 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 

the first steps, what the progress, and what the con- 
clusion. Even at the present day, when we attempt 
to meditate upon our various falls, to reflect upon our 
own actions, and to see by what degrees, and by what 
successive steps, we are gradually engaged in the 
work, we find ourselves greatly embarrassed. The 
windings of the heart are almost inextricable ; the 
first beginnings of sin are nearly insensible ; and the 
acts of the soul, when they go so far as to consent, 
are often prompt and sudden. How much less can 
we satisfy ourselves respecting the fall of the first 
man, of which we have only a short abridgment ? 
But after all, the fact is certain ; man hath been 
tempted, man hath been overcome. After this, dis- 
pute the matter, contest it ; either you must deny the 
fact ; you must even attack the history of Moses, and, 
consequently, overturn Divine Revelation ; or else 
you must acknowledge, that, since the thing has 
taken place, it was but too possible. But is it so, 
that we have nothing of importance to say upon this 
question ? " How man, who was created upright, 
(C could fall into sin ?" What follows, appears to be 
amply sufficient to satisfy every intelligent mind, 

In the first place, although man was upright and 
righteous, he was, in some sense, mutable — capable 
of changing; he was not yet confirmed in righteous- 
ness, by many reiterated acts, and a perpetual habit- 
He was morally well disposed, and inclined to good, 
but this disposition, and inclination, might be changed, 
overcome, by means of a strong temptation, inter- 
mixed with some negligence, on the part of man ; 
followed by a false judgment and precipitate con- 
sent ; man, in the quality of a creature, always re- 
tained something of that nothingness from which he 
was drawn. The creature hath always necessarily, 
in itself, a mixture of imperfection, and some re- 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



45 



mains of weakness. It does not then appear to me 
strange, that man, in the quality of a finite, and 
limited creature, was capable of change and altera- 
tion. This was connected with, and the consequence 
of, his condition* A limited creature is not, natu- 
rally, capable of seeing, and considering, all things 
at once; it commands only a certain extent, even in 
the application of all its powers ; and, consequently, 
it was very possible for man to fall into some inacti- 
vity — into some alienation, or absence of mind — some 
doubts concerning objects proposed to him — some 
inadvertences. If man was possessed of powers, he 
could not always, equally, employ them, with the 
same application, and the same restraint ; and, con- 
sequently* he might fall into some negligence, and 
into, what the schoolmen call, incogitance ; that is, 
into a state, in which we do not think of certain 
things. This would not have caused his fall, pro- 
vided he had remained simply in that state, if he had 
excited, and stirred up himself, as he might have done, 
and if he had afte wards been determined on the 
Lord's side. But was not a temptation coming sud- 
denly, and taking the soul by surprise, and causing a 
powerful diversion, altogether conformable to the 
situation of a limited, and mutable, creature, who 
was liable to fall ? And the thing itself being possi- 
ble, is it strange, and inconceivable, that it actually 
took place ? To this first consideration, of the mu- 
table state of the creature, we must add another, in 
my apprehension no less essential, nor less impor- 
tant; which is, that God placed man in the garden 
of Eden, and, in general, in this world, as in a place 
and state of trial and probation ; in which state, in 
order to prove his fidelity, and obedience, it was, con- 
sequently, necessary to leave him to himself, at least 
for a time ; allowing him all the use of his powers 
and faculties ; for the purpose of seeing what use he 



46 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF* 

would make of them. God created man, that he 
might be adored^ and glorified, by him : this is a 
truth which cannot be questioned. In order to this, 
he gave him a soul capable of knowing and loving 
him ; he gave him a free will, that man might love 
him without constraint, knowingly, and voluntarily ; 
with a discriminating, and supreme, love, which is 
altogether congenial to the excellency of God. That 
the will might readily turn itself towards him, he im- 
parted to it, a natural inclination towards the sove- 
reign good. Moreover, he gave man to know that 
he took pleasure in rewarding him, and in increas- 
ing his happiness, in proportion to his perseverance 
in the state in which he had placed him; He in- 
formed him, at the same time, that he was liable to 
fall, and to die ; threatening him with death, if he 
disobeyed. Was not this a guard sufficient for that 
state of trial, and probation, in which he saw good 
to place him ? Was it not highly proper, that God, 
having newly formed a creature, endued with reason 
and free will, a creature indulged with so many ex- 
cellent blessings ; a creature capable of being go- 
verned by laws, and of being excited, and stimulated, 
by promises and threatenings ; was it not proper, I 
say, to keep him, for a time, in a state of trial and 
probation, not yet immovably confirmed in good, but 
left to himself, to see how he would conduct himself 
towards his Creator; intending after this, to reward 
or punish him, at some other time, and in another 
state, which should be eternal, or unchangeable ? 
God hath seen it necessary thus to act, towards all 
intelligent creatures, which are known unto us. An- 
gels were put into a state of probation, during which 
they had power, either to persevere in their first 
estate, or to fall from it. A part fell, whilst the rest 
persevered, and are confirmed. Why should it be 
thought strange, that God, having created creatures, 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 47 

to whom he owed nothing, in a state capable of 
knowing and loving him freely ; saw it good, also, 
to permit them to act according to the natural 
strength which he had given them, and to make the 
continuation of their happiness to depend upon them- 
selves ? We cannot doubt this, in reference to man ; 
God put him in a state of trial. This appears from 
the covenant he made with him, and from the prohi- 
bition which he laid upon him, relative to the tree 
of knowledge, joined to the threatening he pro- 
nounced. As when a nobleman places a man upon 
his estate, to be his tenant, and to pay him the regu- 
lar rents, and duties, attached to it; he gives this 
man a lease, and enjoins conditions; telling him that 
he shall discharge him from his farm, and take away 
from him all that he had given him, if he should vio- 
late these conditions. Now, is it not perfectly clear, 
that he has not conferred upon this man a simple 
donation, but that he has placed him in a state of de- 
pendance, and trial, in order to prove his fidelity ? 
Shall the tenant complain that his landlord has com- 
mitted his farm to him, upon such and such condi- 
tions? But is not the nobleman master of his estate, 
and is it not just, and reasonable, that the tenant 
should be obliged to pay some acknowledgment to 
his Lord? Above all, if this Lord were to add, upon 
the establishment of his tenant in his farm, that he 
intended to try him, during a certain time, and to 
see how he would conduct himself; and that, after 
having proved him for the time specified, he would 
make him a thousand times happier, and richer, than 
he is; and that he would give him his estate, in a 
manner, irrevocable; and by an absolute donation : 
Is it not true, that the tenant would be the most un- 
reasonable man in the world, if he complained of 
the test, to which his landlord had subjected his fide- 
lity, during a few years : and if, on the contrary, he 



48 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF* 

did not give him thanks; since, after this time of 
probation, his faithfulness would be followed by a re- 
compence so abundant ? It is easy to apply this to 
the state of our first parents, in their innocency. I 
doubt not but the promise of an unchangeable, and 
eternal, happiness was attached to the obedience of 
man. Neither can I see any cause to doubt that it 
was the design of God, after the first natural state of 
man here below, and the original state of the world, 
such as it then w as, to cause to succeed another age, 
another aera, another state of the world, more per- 
fect than the first; a state of supernatural order, 
accompanied, relatively to man, with a happiness 
more perfect than even that which he enjoyed, in his 
natural state, during his innocence. But God, in- 
tending his creature to pass from a good, but imper- 
fect, state, to another, which was more excellent, 
supernatural and unchangeable ; what could be more 
just, and more conformable to good order, than that 
man should be originally put into a state of proba- 
tion ; a state which was good, but changeable, that 
he might afterwards arrive, if he proved faithful, at 
a happy state, more elevated, more perfect, and ab- 
solutely unchangeable ? 

Connect together all that we have said : do you 
ask, how 7 did man fall ? because God created him in 
a mutable state, according to the natural condition of 
a creature, and in a state of liberty, according to the 
condition in which a reasonable soul ought to be. 
Because, moreover, God saw it proper to put man 
into a state of probation, for a time, that he might 
cause him to pass, afterwards, to a state more per- 
fect and unchangeable, provided man made use of 
his powers and talents, which w ere committed to him, 
as a good subject and a faithful steward. In conse- 
queuce of which, the temptation, coming suddenly 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



49 



upon him, which the Devil conducted with so much 
art ; man ! that mutable creature,, has experienced 
a most dreadful alteration! Man! that free crea- 
ture, has made a most horrid use of his liberty ! 
This creature, put to the proof, hath failed in the 
condition which was enjoined him, passing, by de- 
grees, from negligence to doubt, from doubt to un- 
belief, from unbelief to the real desire of enjoying 
the good which Satan had induced him to expect, 
and from desire to actual transgression. But this is 
amply sufficient for the explication of what Solomon 
has told us, viz, " that man hath sought out many 
(i inventions." Let us now proceed to the con- 
firmation of this important truth, " that the fall of 
cc man was voluntary, and that it cannot be imput- 
" ed to God," 



SECOND PART. 

THIS, my Brethren, is what results from that 
which we have said, and from principles the most 
clear, and the most incontestable, from right reason 
and revelation. Follow me, 1 beseech you, in a few 
reflections which I am about to make. The first is, 
that when a man consults the scriptures, right rea- 
son, and the consciousness which he has of his own 
liberty, it is impossible for him not to be convinced, 
that he is the author of his own ruin. This man is 
fully convinced, that, when he doeth evil, he is not 
compelled — forced — constrained ; and that he acts 
thus and thus, because he has determined to do so. 
If this be true, at the present time, in which our will 
is become so enslaved to sin ; how much more, in a 
state of uprightness, did man sin, because he was so 



50 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 

determined. Not that be chose error for the sake 
of error, or that he embraced evil as such ; but he 
sinned voluntarily, because he was not forced, nor 
necessitated; he was self-determined; he consented 
to the temptation, after having had sufficient know- 
ledge of his duty. Eve was not ignorant of the pro- 
hibition ; she was neither attentive to her duty, nor 
to the things which must have been presented to her 
mind. Adam fell, in his turn, by the same negli- 
gence. They were self-determined, after they knew 
their duty ; they doubted of the truth of God, and 
gave credence to the tempter. All this was done 
freely. Their fall therefore was voluntary. More- 
over, there is not, in the Bible, a truth more certain, 
nor more frequently inculcated, than, that the de- 
struction of man is from himself, or that his salvation 
is of the Lord alone. This necessarily supposes that 
evil originated with man. For if his destruction, 
and misery, proceed from himself, it may be confi- 
dently said, that which is the beginning, the cause, 
and the source of it, proceeds from him, of his own 
free will. We may here apply to him the maxim 
of some of the ancient philosophers, who said, tc no 
" one is wounded, or injured, but by himself." No 
one can hurt us, no one can wound us, without our- 
selves. Unfortunate artisans of our ruin, we are 
our own self-murderers! Adam pierced himself; 
lie lifted up his hand against his own body, by the 
abuse of his free will. By tbis, he wounded us all 
in him ; and what a furious tyrant formerly wished, 
relatively to the inhabitants of the Roman empire, 
viz. that they had but one head, that he might cut it 
off at a single stroke ; Adam, probably without think- 
ing of it, hath accomplished in the whole human 
race. He was the head of it, all men were in him, 
as their root, and representative ; and by one single 
blow, Oh ! how dreadful ! and, if it be improper to 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



51 



say he hath cut off the whole human race ; because 
God, in his infinite mercy, has provided a remedy ; 
it is, at least, but too true, that he hath mortally 
wounded both himself and all his posterity. 

It is said, that Julian the emperor, bore in his 1 
standard, for his arms, an eagle pierced through the 
heart with an arrow, the wing of which was com- 
posed of an eagle's feathers, with a few Latin words, 
signifying, ce We are transpierced by our own 
" weapons." He meant that men are, generally, 
the causes, and instruments, of their own misery. 
His device ought to be our's, and that of our first 
parents ; we are pierced by our own arrows. It is 
observable, in nature, that the earth sends forth, 
from its own bosom, exhalations, which, afterwards, 
change into the hail and tempests, which ravage it. 
It is the iron that generates the rust which eats it ; 
and the worm is formed within the apple. It is in 
ourselves that the evil was formed, which hath de- 
stroyed us. The wisest of the heathens have ac- 
knowledged that men became miserable by their own 
crimes. Simplicius, the great philosoper, after hav- 
ing reasoned much upon the origin of evil, conclud- 
ed very wisely, " that because of the freedom of 
" man's will, no other thing could properly be said 
" to be the author of evil, but the soul of man.*' 
And. he concludes with these words : <e thus having 
" found out the cause of evil, we may confidently 
" assert, that God is not the author of sin, because 
<c the soul committeth sin willingly, and of its own 
" free choic ; and that it is not God toho doeth evil. 
" For if the soul committed sin by compidsion, any 
cc one might justly accuse God with having per- 
tc mitted the will to be forced, and whatsoever 
li might be thus done by force, would not, strictly 
" speaking, be sin. But since the soul acts freely 



52 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 

ec and voluntarily, it is that alone which can justly 
ec be called the cause of sin ." Thus it is that this 
philosopher unites his suffrage, with the invariable 
truth which we maintain • that man hath, of him- 
self, sought out many inventions, which have de- 
stroyed him. 

The second reflection which we shall make, my 
Brethren, is, that it is blasphemous, and ridiculous, 
to attribute the moral evil which is in the world, the 
sin which is observable in man, to an eternal evil 
principle, as did the Manichees. Those ancient 
heretics asserted that there were two first causes, 
two principles, co-eternal, two Anti-gods, if I may so 
speak, separate from, and always opposed to, each 
other: the one supremely, and necessarily, good of 
himself; the other supremely, and necessarily, evil; 
wicked, of himself, and from himself. The first 
was, according to them, the cause of all good ; the 
second, the cause of all evil. This monstrous error 
was older than the Manichees ; it took its rise 
under Paganism, and had a considerable number of 
votaries and followers. It is supposed that the diffi- 
culty of explaining the origin of evil, gave rise to 
these two principles, and probably this opinion, in 
the first instance, sprang from a confused tradition, 
and an obscure translation, of the truth that we be- 
lieve. I mean, that as it is true, there is an evil 
principle, but a created and dependent one, the 
Devil, who was the instigator in the fall of man ; this 
true history, ill protected, by a tradition which was 
corrupted, being joined to that of the creation, hath 
produced the sentiment of two principles, the one 
good and the other evil. Afterwards the heathens, 
in order to establish that, of which they had not 
formed a just idea, the unity of God, imagined these 
two principles, both equal, co-existent, and eternal. 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 53 



But what is more extravagant, or more impious, than 
this supposition ? It is equally opposite to scripture 
and right reason, and it is not only contrary to the 
idea of a Being who is all perfect, but it is opposed 
also to matter of fact and to experience. What can 
be more consistent with right reason than this, that 
an all-perfect Being ought to be the only one ? If 
this first truth could be questioned, upon what should 
we, henceforth, be able to fix our feet, and stand 
firm ? What ideas could we have of him, that are 
clear and satifactory ? Several of the heathen phi- 
losophers have also combated the opinion of two 
eternal principles, as absurd and contradictory. To 
suppose two Anti-gods, is the way to destroy the whole 
of the Divinity, and not to acknowledge any. The 
good principle would not be God, if there were an 
evil principle equal to it, because he who cannot do 
whatsoever. he will, cannot be almighty; he who is 
not almighty, cannot be God. Of what avail would 
goodness be without power ? But the good princi- 
ple would not be almighty, because it would be com- 
bated by an equal force, and so restrained, and li- 
mited, in its actions, by the evil principle, that it 
could not triumph over it, nor order the affairs of the 
world, according to its own will. O ! what a God, 
who cannot prevent evil, nor separate it from the 
creature whom he loves! O! what a half Divinity 
is this ! who has only a part of what is necessary to 
make him all-perfect! What a wretched transac- 
tion must that be into which he must enter with the 
evil principle ! Permit me to do good, and I will 
permit thee to do evil. I will give to man a good 
soul, and thou shalt give him a bad one ! For the 
Manichees declared, in effect, that man had two 
souls. What prodigious absurdity ! to conceive of 
an opposite infinite Being, but infinitely evil, and,, 
consequently, in whom all perfections are imperfec- 



54 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 

tions, and infinite degrees of malice ! a God without 
goodness, infinitely hateful! Is it possible that there 
should be any thing more disgusting to reason ? 

But it may be said, that this opinion would be of 
advantage to explain what we behold, viz. the mix- 
ture of good and evil which is found in men, and 
the origin of sin. I answer, that a gross, monstrous, 
and contradictory error, can never properly be made 
use of to solve difficulties, and even when it might 
be accommodated to certain things, it should never 
be embraced, while it is, in other respects, fraught 
with palpable rmpiety, and a manifest contradiction. 
Moreover, far from being the case that Manicheism 
is calculated to explain all that we behold ; on the 
contrary, it renders that inexplicable, which is most 
self-evident ; which is the admirable order, and pre- 
servation, of the universe, as also the liberty of man. 
If there are two principles, how is it that the world 
is conducted in so regular and uniform a manner, 
constructed with such admirable symmetry, preserv- 
ed by such wise laws ? Can regularity have its 
source in disorder? And can the admirable order 
of nature proceed from the dreadful confusion, and 
hetercgenious mixture, which two principles, altoge- 
ther opposite, have produced ? 

If they are always, and necessarily, contrary, how 
are they agreed in the production of a whole, so ad- 
mirably formed ? How are they united in so exact 
a point of view, in so regular a plan ? Who hath 
put an end to their debates ? Who hath served as 
an arbitrator of their differences ? Who overrules, 
at this day, the opposition of their wills, and pre- 
vents its bad effects ? : How is it that a principle ab- 
solutely bad, does not cease from harmony and order, 
and, hath not yet deranged the whole ceconomy of 



* 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 55 



the universe ? Whence cometh it, also, that in each 
part of the world, in every natural being, all things 
are so well adjusted, and all the parts constructed in 
a manner so well adapted to the preservation of 
every creature ? Can we say that this is easy to 
comprehend, and to explain, upon the supposition of 
two principles? Some one may fancifully assert, 
that they are agreed; that they have entered into a 
compact. Vain imagination ! this is taking a thing 
for granted without the least proof. This transac- 
tion is incomprehensible; it destroys even the sup- 
position that there is one principle good, and the 
other evil. A principle essentially good, cannot, 
ought not, at any time, to consent to evil. From the 
moment that it consents, and authorizes a transac- 
tion, and that an agreement follows, by which it ac- 
cedes to all that the evil principle shall do, it is the 
abettor of evil, and, consequently, no longer good. 
What difficulties do you find in comprehending 
how God, being good, permitted the fall of Adam. 
And can you better comprehend how a good princi- 
ple hath consented, by compact, to the evil which 
the bad principle shall do? It avails nothing to say 
that the good principle consented, because it could 
not do better, for this is to imagine a Deity compel- 
led — constrained — necessitated ; which is a strange 
idea indeed. On the other hand, this transaction 
would destroy the nature of the bad principle ; for it 
would suppose, that wicked as it is, it must, never- 
theless, have consented to the good which the good 
principle wished to do. I do not comprehend how 
that which is essentially wicked and bad, by nature, 
could ever consent to what is good. It would be bet- 
ter satisfied with doing nothing, than doing evil by 
halves, and seeing, at the same time, much good 
which it could not hinder. A Manichee would pro- 
bably urge, without supposing a treaty, and an agree* 



I 



56 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 

ment, between the two principles, that things have 
thus taken place of themselves. These two princi- 
ples are found united together in their operations, 
without being able to shake off one another. What 
a monstrous idea, which takes away from these two 
principles, all liberty! These two divinities would - 
be like fishermen, whose nets are so entangled, that 
they could not disengage them, without breaking 
them. Or we must look upon them as beings, com- 
posed of matter, similar to liquors, which being 
poured out of the bottles, unite, mingle ; and are so 
blended together, that they cannot be separated. 
Can any thing be more contrary to the nature of God, 
than this supposition ? But there is much more im- 
plied, which is, that upon this ground, we cannot ex- 
plain the liberty of man, and we annihilate the idea 
of moral good and evil, of vice and virtue; every 
idea of laws, of rewards and of punishments, and con- 
sequently, of all religion. If there be any thing we 
know for certainty, by inward consciousness, and ex- 
perience, it is, that we have a will essentially free, 
which is not forced, or constrained, in what it doeth, 
although it inclines more to the one side than to the 
other. When it acts, it is conscious that it acts of 
itself, and because it judges that it ought to act so 
and so. But how are we to explain this by an opi- 
nion, which resolves all that takes place into fate and 
unavoidable necessity ? All good is necessarily done 
by the good principle ; all evil is necessarily and ine- 
vitably transacted by the evil principle, which irre- 
sistibly produces it. There is then no longer any 
liberty ; nothing is free and voluntary in the world ; 
evil is without remedy and inevitable, and cannot 
be imputed to man ; if it be thus, vice and virtue 
are but mere names ; nothing is either morally good, 
or morally evil ; every thing that is, is so, essentially, 
physically, and by its own nature. Laws — precepts 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 57 

—promises — threatenings — religion; you deceive 
us ! Nothing is worthy either of praise or blame. 
We do not praise a man for being a man, and not 
a stone ; and we do not blame a stone for not being 
a man. Whatsoever exists necessarily, and without 
choice, by destiny, and without its concurrence, is 
not properly worthy either of praise or dispraise, 
and merits neither reward nor punishment. But if 
evil and good proceed from two principles, which 
necessarily produce them in the creature, this crea- 
ture is either good or evil ; or else a mixture of good 
and evil ; it is naturally, necessarily, and inevitably, 
what it is, of one kind of being, and not of another : 
consequently, it is no more worthy of praise or of 
blame, than that an ox is an ox, and not an eagle. 
Once more ; if it be so, why should we, in future, 
talk of moral good and evil? Legislators, why do 
you make laws for us ? Authors of religion, why 
do you speak to us, of rewards and punishments ? 
Leave the human race to themselves, to that fatal 
necessity which drags them along without their con- 
currence, and in spite of themselves. But, my Bre- 
thren, if religion is supported, as it is, by incontesta- 
ble facts ; if this religion holds out to us threatnings 
or promises, and proposes to us reasons, motives, 
exhortations, precepts, and punishments ; if legisla- 
tors make a proper use of it, and, from it, employ 
means to stir up the will of man ; if man, in acting, 
consciously feels that he acts without constraint • 
we may say, that the opinion of two principles is 
necessarily false. We know farther, by experience, 
that man may change, defile himself, and become 
wicked, or more wicked, after having been virtuous 
in many respects. We know that he may become 
good, just, and holy, after having been wicked and 
vicious. He may correct his constitutional defects, 
as Socrates formerly did, by the efforts of his will, 



58 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



and the study of philosophy. And he may reform 
himself in a manner still more perfect, by studying 
the maxims of the gospel, and practising its pre- 
cepts, by the assistance of grace. But if it be so, if 
this takes place every day, does it not necessarily 
follow, that the opinion of two principles, however 
plausibly palliated, is not only contradictory, in itself, 
but contrary to experience ; combated by the most 
authenticated, and certain, facts, and that it is there- 
fore erroneous that it can assign a reason for all that 
we see, and for every thing that takes place ? 

Let us add, my Brethren, that to explain the mix- 
ture of good and evil which is in the world, we need 
not have recourse to that absurd supposition ; be- 
cause the truths which we find in the scriptures, are 
sufficient to satisfy us, Is it necessary to imagine an 
evil principle, eternal, which is so injurious to God ; 
when the scripture teaches us, that there is a created 
principle, which is become evil by Us own choice f 
This is the Devil, who hath drawn man into his 
snare ; but it is, nevertheless, in such a manner, that 
man also himself is guilty of his own loss. Are not 
corrupted man, and the malicious Devil, amply suf- 
ficient to discover to us, the source of all the sin, 
which reigns among the human race ? Is it neces- 
sary to fabricate an evil Deity, when the mutability 
of man, and the malice of the tempter, are sufficient 
to account for its origin ? 

This leads us to our last reflection ; the conclu- 
sion, and the consequence, of all the rest; which is, 
that the sin of man cannot be imputed to God. It 
is a truth clear and certain, that God being infinitely 
holy, could not be the source of evil ; that being in- 
finitely good, it was not he who sought to make the 
creature miserable, in opposition to itself And that, 



f 



MAX DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 59 

being good, just, and holy, it is not he that hath 
produced, and effected, by any necessary, or efficient 
act, that same evil, which he forbids, abhors, con- 
demns, and which he will punish. This is an evi- 
dent truth, which we must not, by any objection, 
suffer to be wrested from us, and which we must 
hold fast, notwithstanding the difficulties to which it 
is liable. Who questions that every truth hath its 
obscure and dark side, in reference to us, in conse- 
quence of the weakness of our understanding, and 
the nature of our condition here below ? We need 
not make great efforts to persuade ourselves, that, 
in reference to the fall of man, our circumscribed 
knowledge finds various subjects of invincible diffi- 
culty. But must we relinquish truths, which are 
certain, because difficulty is inseparable from them ? 
If so, all truth is lost, with respect to us. No, we 
must adhere to this, cc that sin proceeds from man, 
*' and cannot be imputed to his Creator." 

Will you, presumptuous and daring objectors, af- 
firm, that God imposed upon man, a prohibition 
which was the cause of his sin, and which became a 
snare to him ? But how is this ? Is the legislator, 
the cause of vice, because he has forbidden it ? Is 
the master the cause of unfaithfulness in his servant, 
because he has given him a commandment, in order 
to prove him? Was it not agreeable to the sove- 
reignty of God — to the dependance of man ; that 
God should give him precepts, and that, in entering 
into covenant with him, he should prescribe certain 
conditions for him to fulfil ? 

Will you say, that you cannot exonerate God, be- 
cause he it is who hath given to man a free will, by 
which he hath destroyed himself; and that this free 
will, which rendered him capable of destroying him- 



60 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF 



self, appears to you a pernicious gift? Miserable 
creatures t who reproach God with his gifts, after 
having abused them ! Go on, and reproach him 
with having created you, because annihilation may 
also appear to you better than existence, and would 
be so, in effect, if you were to persevere in abusing 
the gifts of God. Who ever, reasonably, thought 
that we ought to impute to a benefactor, the bad 
use which is made of his kindness ? It is true, tr^at 
without a free will, man would not have fallen. But 
without such a will, which acts knowingly, and by 
choice, man would not have been a reasonable crea- 
ture, capable of loving God, capable of virtue, or of 
enjoying a happiness which is infinite and eternal. 
But is it not a most excellent thing to have a soul 
free, capable of loving — of tasting — of possessing, 
the chief good; and of enjoying a happiness which 
is perfect ; provided we make it our choice ? 

We may go further still ; for what end are these 
questions, relative to man ? and why are we asked 
them ? Could not God have prevented the muta- 
bility of Adam ? My Brethren, the question is, not 
what God could have done ; but what he hath judged 
proper to be done, according to his wisdom, and the 
good pleasure of his will, which man cannot, without 
absurdity, attempt to control. We may say more. 
What reason have we to believe, that God was 
obliged to change the order of nature, and to have re- 
course to supernatural, and miraculous, things, to put 
a stop to the mutability of man ? Was it not enough 
that God had endued him with all the perfections 
necessary to his nature, and sufficient to render him 
happy in his natural state ? He left him changea- 
ble, it is true, but this was consistent with the order 
of things. For that which is purely natural, is 
mutable, and capable of change and alteration. All 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



61 



the creatutes in the world are changeable, every one 
according to its quality. How is it then that man 
should not be so ? No creature can be exempt from 
this mutability, but by supernatural means, or by 
the influences of grace. But God was not obliged 
to add the dispensation of grace to that of nature ; 
for besides his being free, and the proprietor of his 
gifts, he undoubtedly prescribed to himself this re- 
gulation, to act successively, and by degrees, as we 
see him acting in all his works ; and that he had re- 
solved not to add grace to nature, until the first plan 
had failed, or was found insufficient. Do not then 
ask any more, why God did not create Adam im- 
mutable ? Or why he did not fix his free will, by 
supernatural means? It was because he intended 
to leave things in their natural order; according to 
which, Adam might have remained steadfast, had he 
done all that was in his power. Besides, God is 
free, which appears from the admirable diversity of 
created beings. Why doth he not create men as 
perfect as angels, beasts as perfect as men, and 
stones as perfect as animals ? Why does he follow 
the laws of order, in the generation, and increase, 
of all living beings ? Why does every tree begin 
with a little plant, or with a small seed ? Why do 
not men arrive at their full stature in a day ? It is 
folly to imagine that God ought to have done every 
thing that he is able to do. Certainly, that admira- 
ble variety, which is found in the creatures, teaches 
us that God was at liberty to give to each being such 
a portion, and such a measure, of perfection, as 
seemed good unto him, and that he is pleased with 
this diversity. Since therefore God was free to dis- 
tribute his good things, as he thought proper; why 
should he not be permitted to create a being up- 
right, but mutable, in order to conduct him, after- 
wards, to a more perfect state ? No one therefore,, 



62 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF, 



can accuse God, for not having created man immu- : 
table. Because, in the first place, he was not in- 
debted to man. Secondly, because he gave him 
directions, laws, and an inclination in his will; 
which ought to have counteracted his mutability, 
and prevented him from turning to evil. In the 
third place, because, although he made him mutable, 
yet, by degrees, and in process of time, by experi- 
ence and habit, he might have become steadfast, and 
confirmed, in holiness ; and, in a word, might have 
arrived, after the time of his probation, at a state, 
incapable of alteration. 

What more shall we say? Must we accuse God, 
because, in the hour of temptation, and without any " 
act on his part, he left Adam at liberty, without pre- 
venting his fall ? But, my Brethren, let us remem- 
ber, that, as we have already demonstrated, God in- 
tended to leave man, for some time, in a state of trial 
and probation. But would it not have been contra- 
ry to this design, if God had prevented the temptation, 
or afforded supernatural help to man ? Shall I prove 
the fidelity of my servant, if I myself prevent him, 
by any invisible means, so that, if he chooses, he can- 
not be in a capacity of disobeying me? It is true, 
that, under the present dispensation of grace, God, 
whilst he enjoins us fidelity, at the same time, in the 
character of a father, and by efficacious grace, in- 
clines us to obey him. But it is because we are no 
longer, simply, under the dispensation of the cove- 
nant of nature, but under that of grace, in which 
God acts in a different manner, and by a supernatu- 
ral dispensation, founded upon Jesus Christ. 

What then ? shall I, at the expence of God, pro- 
ceed to justify myself? Shall I pry into his fore- 
knowledge, into his decrees, and say God foresaw, 



MAM DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 63 



appointed, all that has taken place? Why doth he 
yet find fault? My Brethren, God was not, in this 
important event, an idle spectator. He saw it, he 
foresaw it. But his foreknowledge had no influence, 
so as to produce it; nor was it the efficient cause of 
it. His foreknowledge did not force man. God was 
resolved, yea determined, to permit his fall; to suffer 
it to take place, but not to produce it ; nor, even, to 
operate in it. He sustained, and preserved, man in 
the use of his natural faculties, according to the laws 
which he himself had established, for the concurrence 
necessary to the preservation of all intelligences, 
But in preserving man, he had no part in the sinful- 
ness of his act; in his wickedness, in the dreadful 
change of his inclination ; or in the abuse of his will; 
by abandoning the chief good, that he might attach 
himself to a happiness which was uncertain and 
delusive 



CONCLUSION. 

ILet us now draw to a conclusion, my Brethren. 
The wickedness of the human heart, and the temerity 
of infidels; who seek out many inventions, and who 
are, every day, fruitful in what is new, that they may 
attack divine revelation and religion; have obliged 
us, as it were, in spite of ourselves, to approach these 
abysses. Happy for us, if, wisely alarmed at their 
daringness, and if more and more confirmed in the 
faith, we repel all their vain sophistry; and are in- 
duced to conceal our own doubts, that we may hold 
fast the truths which are revealed. Yes, believers! 
letus learn, more than ever, to justify God! Does 
darkness proceed from the Sun ? or does death come 
from life ? Let us learn to accuse ourselves— to lay 



64 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF, 



our hand upon our mouth-— to stifle the suggestions of 
our evil hearts ; and, timely, to defend ourselves 
against the dangerous errors, which might cause in us 
the least hesitation, respecting these incontestable 
truths: I mean, that God created man pure, and 
that we are become sinners by our own act and deed. 
Rebellious heart of man, be silent ! Thou hast in vain 
endeavoured to justify thyself ; to exonerate thyself, 
from thy sin f That evil fruit — that child, which has 
dishonored thee; thou hast, in vain, laid at the dooiv 
and upon the highway, like an illegitimate child, that 
thou wishest to disown : but it will be in vain for thee 
to say, it is not mine ; man shall always be acknow- 
ledged its unhappy father. Adam conceived it, in the 
first instance, and we are all, after him, the authors, 
the parents, the causes, of our personal sins. The 
sin of Adam is ours by imputation, by propagation, 
by imitation. And, besides our original corruption, 
we commit, every day, a thousand new sins, after the 
similitude of Adam's transgression, which sins can be 
imputed only to ourselves. It is we, who have de- 
stroyed ourselves ; we are the persons who have 
sought out many inventions. It will be ill vain for 
us to say; "let the child be divided : give me one 
" part of it, and the other part to the Devil." It is 
absolutely necessary that the whole of itshould remain 
ours. We commit sin freely ; the Devil cannot con- 
strain our will ; his suggestions, his temptations, can- 
not overcome us, if we do not consent to them ; and 
if we do not fall by them ourselves. I have not time 
to shew you how we have gone astray, after the ex- 
ample of our first father, or to present you, in his 
descendants, the truth of what the wise man says, 
that men have of themselves, " sought out many in- 
" ventions many imaginations, which are the com- 
mon, and ordinary, causes of all their falls. This 
would be an useful, and an agreeable, detail, if we 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF- 65 

had leisure to descend to it; to follow sinners in theif 
turnings and windings, and clearly to shew you how 
fruitful every one is in illusions, calculated to deceive 
him, and to disguise sin, Active in seeking false 
good, and in promising himself a thousand gratifica- 
tions, a thousand pleasures, in the ways of sin ; inge- 
nious in covering and excusing his sins, when they 
are committed. O artful deceivers ! with hearts all 
corrupt, opposed to our original uprightness ! Paths 
of error ! which, in the end, will infallibly conduct us 
to eternal damnation ! Let us haste, let us haste, in 
good earnest, my Brethren, to quit this way which 
leads to perdition. Let us forsake sin, and every 
thing that leads to it. And to effect this purpose, 
without pretending to exculpate our first parents, or 
ourselves; without pretending to accuse him that 
hath begotten us; or to be irritated against Adam: 
Let us deplore our misery and endeavour to repair it. 
Let us humble ourselves under the consideration of 
our fall; and let us have recourse to divine grace, in 
order that we may rise. Let us be thoroughly con- 
vinced, that although we were capable of destroying 
ourselves, we are not able to save ourselves. Ah ! if 
in a state of innocency, we were overpowered by our 
enemy, how shall we able to rescue ourselves, when 
we are so bruised by our fall ? Sampson in vain flat- 
tered himself, after having subjected himself to the 
power of Delilah, that he might still escape the hands 
of the Philistines; and that he should have sufficient 
strength to break their chains. "He said," upon his 
awaking from sleep, " / will go out as at other times 
" before, and shake myself; and he wist not that the 
" Lord was departed from him." In vain do the ad- 
vocates for unassisted free will ; in vain do the greater 
part of men, imagine that they have sufficient strength 
left to shake oft' the yoke, and break the chains cf 
sin, as they might have done in the state of innocency, 

F 



66 MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF* 

if they had not delivered up themselves. Alas! poor 
Sampson, thou art no longer the same man: thy 
locks are shorn; thy strength is gone; those robust 
arms are dead; the Lord has departed from thee. 
Thou art a slave, and thou canst not break thy fet- 
ters, till the Lord shall re-establish thee, and make 
thee a new man. We must therefore renounce our- 
selves, and have recourse to divine grace. Without 
it we are like a vessel in a tempest — without pilot- 
without sail — without anchor; — we perish! Lord, 
save us! Carry us in thine arms! let thy strength 
be made perfect in our weakness. Let us be no 
longer as wandering stars — as clouds without water, 
driven hither and thither: Make us as so many 
fixed stars; let us be rooted and established, by the 
power of thy good spirit. 

Our natural state causes us to tremble ; but the 
mercy of God, in Christ Jesus, encourages us. — 
Adored be that mercy, which has descended to visit 
us, in the region of the shadow of death. Adored be 
that salutry grace, which has appeared unto us, in 
our darkness ! O, how delightful and welcome must 
it be to us, if we feel our miserv. O ! how sweet and 
precious must " the gift of Jesus Christ unto eternal 
£C life/' be unto us, if we are convinced of, " the sin 
" of Adam, which hath reigned unto death." O! 
what glad tidings are those of redemption ! Let 
us embrace, my dear Brethren, by repentence 
and faith, our Redeemer — our Saviour, who is 
come to deliver us from sin and death — to destroy 
the works of the Devil — to bruise the serpent's 
head! Let us fight manfully, under the banner of 
Jesus Christ, against his enemy. He hath overcome 
our first father, but we, in our turn, shall over- 
come him, under the command, and through the 
grace, of Jesus Christ. Let us resist his tempta- 



MAN DESTROYED BY HIMSELF. 



67 



tions— repel his attacks, without listening; to him for 
a moment. Let us profit by the default of our first 
parents. Let us no longer seek out, either vain in- 
ventions, or vain desires. Let us impose upon our- 
selves one inviolable law, to obey God in all things, 
without reserve. Adam fell by unbelief; let us main- 
tain our ground by faith. Adam sinned by vain de- 
sires after knowledge; let us hold fast, by certain and 
well regulated knowledge, the truth which God hath 
revealed to us. Adam destroyed himself by his ini- 
quity : Let us go to him who saveth us ; even to 
Jesus Christ, our redeemer. Let us throw ourselves 
into his arms ! He it is who shall bestow upon us his 
blood, to expiate our sins, efficacious grace, to change 
and establish our hearts ; a covenant more firm than 
that of nature; and a happiness more durable than 
that of innocence; which will be a happiness un- 
chageable and eternal. God grant that we may all 
be partakers of it. AMEN, 



F % 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART 

OF MAN. 



SERMON III. 

Jeremiah, xvii Chap. 9 Verse. 

" The Heart is deceitful above all things, and 
desperately ivicked; who can know it?" 

My Brethren, 

One of the most excellent lessons of wisdom, is 
that which cries unto each of us ; " know thyself." 
It has frequently resounded in the schools of philosophy: 
Some sages have, particularly, adopted it, as their fa- 
vourite maxim; and it was, formerly, seen inscribed 
on the temple at Delphos. Upon which the Roman 
orator said, (C This sentence was regarded as the 
"precept of a God, because there was nothing so 
C( divine as self-knowledge." He added still farther, 
ec It appears that philosophy is the richest present of 
"heaven; because that alone teaches us, not only 
" the knowledge of other things, but of ourselves ; 
fC which is the niost difficult." What an excellent 
privilege of man, said the ancient philosophers, that he 
can reflect upon himself, and upon the motions of his 
soul ; which brutesxannot do ! The eye of the soul 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 69 



is, in this respect, more perfect than that of the body; 
for this eye can view, not only all surrounding objects, 
but it can see, and contemplate, itself, without any 
mirror, without any other help than its own reflec- 
tions. 

Such are the praises heathens have lavished upon 
the knowledge of ourselves ! At the same time, my 
Brethren, whilst in the midst of all this, we seek for 
their true meaning of this knowledge, and the use they 
have made of it, we are very far from being satisfied. 
We see that they had no other design than to excite 
us to meditate upon the nature, the properties, and 
actions, of our soul ; to make us admire the strength 
of our reason, the penetration of our understanding, 
the activity of our faculties, the power of our will, and 
that almost infinite number of ideas, and operations, of 
which we are capable. Thus wholly occupied in ex- 
tolling man, and in leading him to the contemplation 
of his dignity, and his greatness, their only end was, 
by this method, to excite his contempt for that which 
was beneath him ; and induce him to distinguish him- 
self from brutes, as much by his actions, as he is ex- 
alted above them by his nature. This is almost the 
only, practical, use they derived from the knowledge 
of man ; and not seeking to correct him, but to inspire 
him with courage, and increase hisgood opinion of him- 
self ; they have generally presented to him the more 
favorable side, concealing that of his misery, and base- 
ness ; as only calculated to discourage him in his views, 
and weaken his efforts. So that we may say they 
have always produced pride in him, but never humility. 

Believers! experience hath, too much, convinced 
us that this way was not good ; that it was not suffi- 
cient to heal us, at least of itself; and that it produced 
only false virtues. It was necessary to unite the con- 

f 3 



70 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



sciousness of what we are by sin, with the idea of 
what we ought to be by the nobleness of our origin. 
If the consideration of the excellency of our soul can 
lead us to any thing truly good ; it is only since we 
have entered upon the knowledge of our misery ;■ and, 
by sentiments lively and humble, have been convinced 
of the depravity of our heart : This is what philoso- 
phers have not done. They were not only ignorant 
of the origin of sin, in man, and the source of that pro- 
digious contradiction which is found in him ; of that 
astonishing mixture of greatness and littleness, of rea- 
son , and folly, of light and darkness, which is so ob- 
servable: but by a strange blindness, which experience 
alone can remove, they supposed that man had all his 
powers, that reason was still the mistress of him ; and 
they scarcely perceived the disorder, and confusion, 
which prevail within us. Thus in love with them- 
selves, and always flattering human nature, they 
have departed from the original path ; they have 
erred from the first point of morality and religion. 

It is revelation alone, my Brethren, that properly 
saith unto each of us, cc know thyself." Religion alone 
is that celestial philosophy which can, with propriety, 
be called " a present of heaven;" because that alone 
teaches us to know ourselves : to know ourselves, not 
only in our primeval glory, but in our fallen state ; not 
only what we were, in our creation ; but what we are 
by sin. This it is which gives us to see our deformity, 
and weakness; shewing us, at the same time, what is 
the source of our misery ; causing us to feel the great- 
ness of it, and teaching us, that, unless we know, and 
feel it, we cannot be healed. In effect, without this 
knowledge, we could not desire grace to perceive the 
need we have of a redeemer, to come to him by faith, 
and to see the value, and the necessity, of the remedy 
which he offers us. For this reason, the scripture, 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 71 

which would save man in humbling- him, correct him, 
by inspiring' him with horror of his state, and lead him 
to God, by making him renounce himself: speaks to 
us so often of our depravity ; and in order to represent 
it, employs expressions as strong as they are just: 
This appears in our text. " The heart is deceitful 
" above all things, and deperately wicked ; who can 
"know it?" * * 

Christians! This is a portrait, in epitome, which I 
thought it would be proper to set before you, and to 
compare it with what we too much feel, and experi- 
ence every day. What are the prominent features of 
this picture ? What are the characters by which the 
Holy Spirit traces the portrait of our heart ? Here are 
three things which are closely connected together, 
which are implied, and which naturally follow each 
other. The first is the-subtilty and deceit of it : cc the 
4C heart is deceitful" The second is its malice, and 
malice in the extreme : " it is ( above all things ) des- 
" perately tricked." The third is the difficulty of 
knowing it : it is profound, disguised, hidden, impene- 
trable i as the scripture expresses it by this interroga- 
tion ; cc who can know it ?" But these three charac- 
ters would furnish us with too much matter for one 
discourse ; and as this subject deserves to be treated 
with some latitude, we shall, with God's permission, 
find enough to occupy us more than once. We shall 
therefore, at present, confine ourselves to the first pro- 
position ; " the heart is deceitful above all things" 
This we hope to prove to you by the clearest evidence; 
by directing your attention to four things. The incon- 
stancy of our heart — its infidelity — the excessive love 
which it hath for itself — the illusions of which it is, 
in every respect, capable. These are so many sensi- 
ble, and incontestable, proofs, that it is a deceiver. 
Qh ! that that great God, whom our disguise can never 



72 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



impose upon ; he, C( before whom all things are naked 
(C and open ; and who searcheth all hearts may 
give us grace now to enter into ours, that we may 
be able, more and more, to imbibe sentiments of humi- 
lity and repentance, which are so necessary, in order 
that we may acquire hearts upright, and sincere be- 
fore him, AMEN, 



FIRST PART. 

< 

My Brethren, it was the idolatry, and impenitence,, 
of the Jews, which gave the prophet cause to speak so 
unfavorably of the human heart. He came to pre- 
dict, to this people, their calamity, and aproaehing 
captivity, as a just punishment for their sins. He 
condemned the false, and absurd, confidence which 
this nation had in an arm of flesh: " Cursed be the 
Si man that trusteth in man, and maketh Jlesh his 
<( arm, and whose heart depart eth "from the Lord" 
And, after having opposed to the misery of such, the 
happiness of true believers, who confide in God ; he 
proceeds to the source of evil, and crieth out, " The 
e: heart is deceitful above all things, and despe- 
sc rately wicked ; who can know it ?" As if he had 
said, what an abyss is the heart of man ? What a 
prodigy of blindness — of folly — of malice ? Who 
could ever believe it capable of going to such lengths ? 
or that man would have so many illusions in him- 
self? That a people, so often warned and threat- 
ened, should be always impenitent ; that neither mis- 
fortunes—nor favors — nor chastisements — nor pro- 
mises, should be sufficient to reclaim them from their 
errors ; and tl/at, always flattering themselves, they 
should place all their confidence in human means ; in 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 73 

their industry, their power, and the help of others ; 
believing themselves capable of excelling the Most 
High ? The heart is a great impostor, and despe- 
rately wicked. 

But what was said of the Jews, on this occasion, is, 
in itself, a general truth. The hearts of all men are, 
naturally, formed in the same manner. The differ- 
ence, amongst them, does not proceed from the heart 
itself, from the ground and nature of it, but from di- 
vers other causes. There are exterior causes, which 
Providence produces, and over-rules to restrain, in va- 
rious respects, the malice of man. There are interior 
causes, occasioned by religion and grace, which sanc- 
tify, and change, the heart. I may here remark, by 
way of digression, that *our state, too much, in many 
respects, like that of the Jews, gives us sufficient 
cause for a complaint, similar to that of the prophet 
When we consider that we are always the same, in 
prosperity and adversity, in peace and war ; that what 
we were in our own country we are f here ; that nei- 
ther the loss of our goods, nor that of our relations, 
nor the troubles of the church, have been sufficient to 
change us : that while we are at ease, full of hope in 
God, we are also hardened ; wholly rejecting him. 
When we see how life rolls along, how the festivals, 
the fasts, and the sacraments pass away ; our corrup- 
tion rather increasing than diminishing : Who amongst 
us ought not, naturally, to make this reflection ? 
£C Oh ! how deceitful is the heart of man ! how 
(C desperately zvicked !" 

You well understand, my Brethren, what is here 
meant by cc the heart." It is the inward part of man, 
his thoughts — his will — his desires — his affections — ■ 



* The French Refugees. 



+ At Rotterdam 



74 A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN, 



his soul ; and, in a word, all these put together ; being 
the source of our judgment, our resolutions, our incli- 
nations, and, above all, of our love. In scripture lan- 
guage, sometimes, by the heait is meant some particu- 
lar part, or power, of the soul; such as the conscience 
—the will — the affections : and sometimes the soul, 
with all its faculties, sent ments and operations : Ex- 
amples of which frequently occur ; and two reasons 
may be assigned for this expression. The first is the 
opinion of the ancients, which placed the soul in the 
heart. They looked upon this principal part of our 
body, as the source of iife ; and therefore concluded, 
that it was the seat of the soul ; so that, when they 
mention the heart, they mean the soul that dwells in it. 
The second reason is, that the heart, being an interior 
part, hidden, and out of sight ; it has, always been a 
common way of speaking, to call by the name of heart, 
that which is most closely connected with, and con- 
cealed in, a thing. Thus our thoughts — our desires 
—our passions — our resolutions ; and all the interior 
principles of our actions, have been, very properly, 
named " the heart " 

This heart is deceitful ; full of fraud — cunning — 
sophistry ; as the word signifies ; so that one cannot 
well know what passes within man, because his in- 
terior part is hidden — ambiguous — full of deceit. It 
is deceitful with respect to God, to whom we often pro- 
mise what we do not perform ; and strive to repay 
him only in appearance. Our heart is deceitful, with 
respect to men ; we conceal from them, as much as 
possible, what passes within us ; we seek to impose 
upon them by specious appearances. Finally ; our 
heart is deceitful, with respect to ourselves ; it de- 
frauds us a hundred times every day ; and we are, in- 
cessantly, the dupes of our passions, which sport with 
our reason. It is in reference to this point, that we 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 75 



shall now consider this truth, cc the heart is deceitful;" 
a truth which requires every one to consider his own 
state ; a truth which we have promised to bring home 
to your consciences, by considering', in the first place, 
the inconstancy of our heart. 

This inconstancy is, as it were, natural, and appears 
almost inevitable. All created things are mutable ; 
particularly all sublunary things, which pass along, in 
continual revolutions. But, of all creatures, man is the 
most fickle and changeable. Our judgments — our 
opinions — our passions — are subject to extravagant 
vicissitudes. The same thing pleases and displeases 
us, in a short time. To day, we desire what we re- 
jected yesterday — we now hate what we then loved — 
we believe what we then thought incredible ; and our 
thoughts assume as many different forms as Proteus, 
or Vertumnus in the fable. The sea, which is called 
the theatre of inconstancy, with its ebbing and flowing, 
and its waves, upon which the wind so easily plays ; is 
but too lively an image of the perpetual agitation of 
our soul, and of its continual inconstancy. Above all, 
when the question relates to piety, the soul finds it dif- 
ficult to continue many moments in one and the same 
state. It wishes to love God ; that God, who is so 
amiable ; but other objects present themselves, which 
are more visible — more comprehensible — more pro- 
portionate to our senses, than this eternal Being, ele- 
vated so much above us. It relinquishes its first de- 
sign, and runs after those objects which disturb, still 
more, the imagination, and the senses. We wish to 
pray — to meditate — to recollect ourselves ; but how 
long do we remain fixed in these acts of piety ? Other 
thoughts immediately intrude — a thousand distractions 
interrupt these intentions. The soul, which can suffer 
nothing that is troublesome, flies off. You imagine 
you hold it, but it is far from you. We take pleasure 



76 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



in a certain book ; and this book, by its principles and 
instructions, may be profitable ; we are soon out of 
love with it ; it is too well known — this is enough. 
A preacher pleases, while he has the charms of no- 
velty ; but it is no longer so, when we have frequently i 
heard his discourses. Others must come, and they 
who succeed him, will find the same heart, inconstant, 
and always fickle. A good resolution pleases, when, 
in the heat of a certain zeal, we form it in haste : But 
let this first fervour abate ; and this poor heart, which 
loves to change, and which finds more pleasure, and 
less constraint, in the ordinary course, than in the exe- 
cution of its new design, quickly follows its natural in- 
clination, and, by this, proves itself a deceiver. 

But whence comes this perpetual inconstancy ? I 
might here assign many reasons for it. In the first 
place, we are inconstant from the dependence of our 
souls upon the motions of our bodies. Hence it is 
that we are subject to so many changes. A new emo- 
tion, which fakes place in the blood and spirits, a 
slight alteration in our humours, or organs, some 
effect, even almost imperceptible, which the nourish- 
ment we take, or the air we breathe, may have pro- 
duced ; is capable of changing our minds. What 
dreadful misery do we experience every day ? A good 
or a bad night — health or sickness- — a state of indis- 
position or vigor — the thickness, or agitation, of the 
blood, is sufficient, even in moral things, to make us 
judge, think, and desire ; with wonderful diversity. 
And we are not, always, proof against the sudden re- 
volts, which take place in our constitutions. Secondly. 
We are inconstant from the relation, and connection, 
which we have with all external things with which 
we are surrounded. Thus, as the Camelion assumes 
the colour of every object it approaches: So, we as- 
sume a new form, a new colour, accordingly as we are 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 77 

attached to new objects. The manners — the senti- 
ments — the passions, of other men, with whom we 
converse, are contagious to us. They strike our 
imagination, and, frequently, cause us to take impres- 
sions like their own. 

Finally ; we are inconstant from the present state 
of our soul, which is dark — ignorant — capacious — 
void. It has a latitude which is very extensive, and 
indetermined : It is always seeking after good, and it 
invariably mistakes false good for true. Thus it runs 
from object to object, and the contracted sphere of 
its knowledge, joined to the vast extent of its desires, 
renders it restless — eager after novelty — capricious — 
quickly tired and disgusted with every thing. After 
this, what dependence can be placed upon this soul, 
whilst abandoned to itself, and unestablished by 
grace ? What dependence can be placed upon a soul, 
constant and uniform, only, in this one thing ; that it 
always returns to sin ; but, in every thing else, is 
changable ? We say we must not depend npon the 
weather, because it changes in a moment : A clear 
sky frequently deceives the mariner; for often the 
tempest comes on unexpectedly. Suffice it* to say, 
that even a friend is inconstant — his friendship is de- 
ceitful : You cannot place any dependence upon it. 
My Brethren ; since our heart is inconstant, from so 
many inward and outward causes, we should beware 
of too much dependence upon it, we should consider 
it as a deceiver. 



78 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN* 



SECOND PART. 



THE infidelity of the heart is closely connected with 
its inconstancy, of which it is the effect. Let us con- 
sider then, in the second place, how this infidelity 
continually works in our hearts, in respect to vows — 
promises— good resolutions, and in consequence of the 
vain confidence which we have in our own strength. 
Hasty to " vow a vow/' and slack to pay it; it en- 
gages to do every thing, and, in general, performs 
nothing. It frequently says, like the son in the gos- 
pel, " I go to work in the vineyard, and goeth not." 
It saith, t( I will do it" but this is, that it may not 
say, " I do it." The people of Israel are compared, 
twice, to a deceitful bow. Asaph saith, in the 78th. 
Psalm : cc they turned back, and dealt unfaithfully, 
" like their fathers : they were turned aside like a 
ct deceitful bow." And God saith, in the 7th. chap, 
of Hosea : " they are like a deceitful bow" What 
does this comparison signify ? A bow which deceives, 
may be one which does not take proper aim, or which 
gives a false bias to the arrow, so that it cannot hit the 
mark. Thus, like a bow ready to be drawn, the peo- 
ple of Israel seemed disposed to do well ; but they paid 
no attention to their duty ; they were " like a deceit- 
tc ful boio;" they answered not their end; they failed 
in shooting. But I rather think, that by a deceitful 
bow, is meant a bow which breaks or slackens, in the 
act of drawing. A very striking representation of the 
heart of everv man, as well as that of the Israelites, 
The heart makes fair promises ; it prepares to acquit 
itself of its duty : behold, the bow is bent ! ready to 
pray, or to perform some other act of piety ; but alas ! 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 79 

it is a " deceitful boiv," it breaks the promise, by 
which it was bound ; it escapes, all at once, from that 
constraint which piety had laid upon it ; and it returns 
to its natural state. Whence comes it, my Brethren, 
that we never fail to make many promises in affliction, 
and entirely forget them in prosperity ? Whence is it, 
that the man, recovered from sickness, performs not 
the tenth part of what he had resolved in his illness ? 
Whence is it, that the sailor, escaped from the tempest, 
far from performing the vows he made, during the 
storm, often laughs at his promises when he gets into 
port ? How comes it to pass, if the heart is not de- 
ceitful, that scarcely the hundredth part of those who 
promise some amendment, on fast days, and at the 
Lord's supper, completely violate their engagements ? 

We are told, in the 34th. chap, of Jeremiah, that 
when Nebuchadnezzar came to make war upon the 
Jews ; and to besiege Jerusalem ; cc all the princes, 
" and all the people, entered into a solemn covenant 
" — and promised, every one, to let his man servant, 
t( and his maid servant, go free :" I e. those of their 
own nation, who had been sold to them, and who, ac- 
cording to the law, were to serve them only six years ; 
after which they were obliged to set them free ; but 
this they did not, in general, execute. They not only 
promised it, but they did it; they sent them away free; 
but as soon as the danger was removed, Ci they turned, 
(( and caused the servants and the hand-maids, 
<( whom they had lei g o free, to return and brought 
"them into subjection:" which thing greatly dis- 
pleased the Lord. Such is our temper ! When God 
visits us with adversity — when war threatens us — when 
the enemy terrifies us ; we promise to send away our 
evil tempers, and to renounce them. But does the 
enemy withdraw — does affliction subside? Our pro- 
mises vanish, we retain all that ought to be put away.- 



80 A PORTRAITURE OE THE HEART OF MAN. 



I appeal to your consciences, Refugees, if you have 
not recalled those passions which you appeared to have 
discarded, when God afflicted you in your own coun- 
try • if you have not again returned to those habits, 
which, by a solemn covenant, you had promised to 
relinquish ? Thus it is that we are Infidels, both with 
respect to God and ourselves. 

Not that we do not often promise sincerely. All 
who engage to do better, are not always hypocrites,, 
and, intentionally, cheats; who wilfully mock God, 
or impose upon men. Sometimes those who only im- 
perfectly repent, believe that they repent truly and 
sincerely : they become the dupes of their own hearts 
— they believe themselves sincere, at least, in the first 
instance. And even true believers, wjiose promises are 
the most sincere, are ensnared by this impostor, w hich 
falsifies its w r ord, as appears by their too frequent falls. 
St. Peter was the dupe of his own heart, when he said, 
with so much presumption, " Though I should die 
t( with thee, yet will I not deny thee'' Poor man ! 
he believed he spoke the truth ; his mouth not only 
spoke, but his heart resolved ; his zeal, and his present 
ardor, thus influenced him : His heart appeared to 
unite with his words ; but it was only in part ; it 
proved unfaithful in the time of temptation. When 
God published his law to the Israelites ; this people 
humbled, and terrified, by the fire — by the earth- 
quake — by the thunder — by the tempest, which ac- 
companied this publication ; failed not to promise a 
faithful obedience. They said to Moses : " Speak 
" thou unto us all that the Lord our God shall 
" speak unto thee, and zoe will hear it and do it/* 
But the Lord, who knew them much better than they 
knew T themselves, said upon this, as is related in the 
5th. chap, of Deuteronomy : (C Oh that there were 
" such an heart in them, that they would fear me, 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN. 81 



"and keep all my commandments always]" See 
how he distrusted their heart ! how he knew their infi- 
delity and inconstancy ! Oh that they might have al- 
ways the same thoughts — the same resolutions ! but 
they will not long endure. Whence this infidelity of 
the human heart ? Among other things, my Bre- 
thren, it arises from its making good resolutions,, in 
haste, without sufficiently examining, and duly weigh- 
ings them. It is on this account, that it cannot conti- 
nue long in a state, which keeps it under restraint. It 
avoids every thing that constrains and afflicts it. The 
idea of conversion, and obedience to God, includes a 
thousand obligations, which are grievous to a soul 
that desires nothing but pleasure. These things are, 
for the most part, mortifying to our delicacy and pride. 
We have only considered them in the gross, in the 
first resolutions which we formed ; but in proportion 
as we view them nearer, and more in detail, we are 
disgusted with them ; we prefer rather to shake off 
this yoke, than to subject ourselves to it. Just so was 
the young man, who said, c< What shall I do to inhe- 
" rit eternal life ;" and went away sorrowful, when 
our Lord said to him, iC Sell all that thou hast." We 
are disheartened ; we shrink back, our courage sinks, 
and our heart fails us: This coward, which flies 
from pain; this perfidious wretch, whose treasons 
cause us so often to sigh, still deceives us by its eva- 
sions ; and tells us, by experience, cc That it is de- 
ceitful above all things." 

THIRD PART. 

The third general consideration, by which we shall 
proceed, to prove this truth, shall be the ordinary 
effects of self-love. Self-love, that dreadful poison, 

o 



82 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MANr 



which insensibly diffuses itself throughout every cor- 
ner of our heart ; which infects almost all our actions ; 
which contaminates almost all our virtues : Self-love, 
that imperceptable, and hidden,, spring; which ex- 
cites., through almost every period of our life, some 
emotions contrary to what we appear to have. It 
must be confessed, that, naturally partial to ourselves, 
we endeavour only to see ourselves in the best light * 
we form in our minds a favorable idea of ourselves, 
setting off every feature to the best advantage ; and 
charmed with this idol, jealous of this beautiful 
- image, we cannot endure that any one should, in the 
least respect, depreciate or difigure it ; or that any 
one should seem to have an opinion of us different 
from that which we form of ourselves. We cherish 
our error, so far as to hate those who would unde- 
ceive us. Astonishing! a man cannot console him- 
self in being deceived by his enemies — he is still 
more afflicted at being deceived by his friends ; and 
yet he continually seeks to be deceived, he invariably 
takes pleasure in being deceived by himself! this is 
the case with almost all persons ; it is so without 
their perceiving it, without their suspecting it ; and 
even when they believe themselves most upon their 
guard. Who does not think himself more perfect 
than he is ? Is there any one who does not flatter 
himself upon his vices, or his virtues ; and who is it 
that judges impartially of himself, upon all occa- 
sions? * 

I entreat you, in this place, to attend to several 
things. For instance : the idea which we have of 
ourselves, and our actions, and that which others 
have of them, are never exactly alike. Other men 
put not so favorable a construction upon our actions, 
as ourselves; they see them in another light, and 
they usually judge much more justly of our defects, 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 83 

and imperfections, than we ourselves. Whence 
cometh this, since we ought to know ourselves best, 
if it be not that our eyes are blinded by self-love, and 
that theirs are not ; that it holds up a deceitful mir- 
ror, in which we view our actions, whilst, on the con- 
trary, our neighbours see them as they really are. 
We may add to this some reflections upon what is 
called the falsity of human virtues. It is a thing now 
generally acknowledged, by those who have studied 
the heart of man, that virtues, purely human, such as 
those of wise heathens, and of men of the world, who 
are called good sort of people ; are imperfect produc- 
tions. They are beautiful flowers, but they have a 
worm at the root : Apples of Sodom, in appearance 
finely formed and beautifully colored; but within, 
full of ashes. No; human virtues, you are, in rea- 
lity, like tinsel, plaster, and painted paper, taken at 
a distance for real beauties ! Every thing that hath 
not grace for its principle ; all that is done without 
faith — without the love of God — without an eye to 
him ; all that relates to ourselves alone, all that is 
subservient only to self-love ; is dead before God. 
At the same time, how many have deceived them- 
selves, and still deceive themselves, upon this point ! 
the wise heathens, undoubtedly, believed that they 
had virtues, which were excellent, and solid ; they 
had no suspicion that their hearts were impostors, or 
their virtues false. And how many are there, amongst 
Christians, who have only Pagan virtues, without 
perceiving it — without suspecting that their hearts 
are given to change; and without ever, properly, 
developing the springs which cause them to act. 
Agreeably to this, a wise man hath observed, that 
the corrupt heart of man, attacked by pride and self- 
love, and surrounded with bad examples, may be 
compared to the commander of a besieged city • in 
which there is a deficiency of money. He makes 

g 2 



84 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



money of leather, and pasteboard. This money hath 
the appearance of sterling; it is uttered ; but it is 
only misery and want that give currency to it, 
amongst the besieged. Thus human virtues are like 
counterfeit money, which has only the image of 
good, but to which the misery of the human race hath 
given currency. What makes this the more won- 
derful, is, that, not only those, among whom this mo- 
ney is uttered, take it for sterling, but even those who 
have fabricated it, are so blinded that they esteem it, 
and look upon it, as proper current coin, and of a 
just value. Is there any thing that more effectually 
proves how much our heart deceives us ? The first 
principle of the wise heathens, was, that man must 
seek happiness in himself This was a false princi- 
ple ; at least, it should be rectified. They could not 
comprehend how a man should seek happiness out of 
himself. It was, because pride puffed them up in 
their fleshly minds, and deluded them. 

Behold a third point, that merits our attention ! 
which is, what the wise man hath said in the 21st, 
chap, of Proverbs ; " Every way of a man is right 
" in his own eyes ; but the Lord ponder eth the 
<c hearts." Who would believe it possible, that 
every man should be satisfied with himself, and should 
imagine himself to be in the good way? But cou- 
sult experience ; take mankind individually, before 
grace hath touched their hearts; and you will always 
find them sufficiently in love with themselves; ready 
to defend their conduct, and to justify their proceed- 
ings. Is it not seen, in the world, that when even 
decency prevents us from boasting of our penetra- 
tion — our sense — our wisdom ; because this would 
make us pass for men, puffed up with pride and pre- 
sumption; we are not afraid to speak well of our 
heart ; and we endeavour to make people think, that 



A PORTRAITURE OF TfrE HEART OP MAN. 85 

we have,, at least, certain good moral qualities. 
Whereas, in reality, our understanding is always 
much better than our heart, of which we can say 
little, but what is evil. Thus, when grace touches 
us, the first change which it makes, is that which 
teaches us to abhor ourselves, and wholly to condemn 
our heart and our conduct. 

I am astonished that so many men have always 
found reasons to give themselves some sort of repose, 
and to be satisfied with their state. The Jew flatters 
himself, because he is of the blood of the patriarchs. 
John the Baptist said, " Think not to say within 
"yourselves, we have Abraham to our father" He 
knew their weakness : this was one of the principal 
grounds of their assurance, at other times ; the pro- 
phets had said to them, cc Trust ye not in lying 
words, saying the temple of the Lord — the temple 
. " of the Lord." Their exterior privileges, united 
w ith their self loye, to lull them to sleep. The Pha- 
risee, in the temple, who said, ce God, I thank thee, 
f f that I am not — as this publican : I am no extor- 
" tioncr, nor unjust ;" built himself a bulwark of his 
own righteousness, and thought himself righteous, 
because he was not guilty of gross sins — of enormous 
crimes; or because he was not as the publican. At 
the same time, who can tell that he was not an extor- 
tioner, in ways more refined, and more specious, ac- 
cording to the custom of his sect; " Who devoured 
" widows houses, and, for a pretence, made long 
"prayers." There are some who console them- 
selves, because God hath given them much of this 
world's goods, upon the ground of their prosperity ; 
they dare to believe themselves the favorites of heaven. 
I see others, whose self-applause is gratified, if the 
progress of their passions is stopped: If they per- 
mit them to be tranquil, in some happy intervals, if 

g 3 



86 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



there be a short truce, if they are in silence, that is 
enough ; they flatter themselves that they are van- 
quished — that they are dead. Behold this man \ he 
values himself upon the idea that he hath, I know not 
how much, zeal for his religion, which is frequently 
no more than an attachment to a party. Another 
applauds himself upon the exactness with which he 
acquits himself in the outward duties of piety ; one 
who is in part regenerated, believes he hath true 
faith, and true peace of conscience. Finally: Who 
can say in how many ways we deceive ourselves? 
" If a man think himself to be something when he 
is nothing " saith St. Paul, in the 6th. chap, of Ga- 
latians, " he deceiveth himself" And he crieth to us, 
in more places than one, " Deceive not yourselves.** 
So true is it, that it often happens, that we do it ; and 
do it in that, which, of all things in the world, is the 
most important. An error, similar to that of the 
church of Laodicea, which said, " I am rich xtnd in- 
9 creased with goods, and have need of nothing, 
* c and was, at the same time, wretched, and miser a- 
(< hie, and poor, and blind, and naked" But all 
these different deceptions, in which men who flatter 
themselves, respecting their state — their vices and 
virtues; in whatsoever manner, and under whatever 
false pretexts, they may do it ; all these different 
errors have only one and the same principle ; which 
is that infinite self-love which we have for ourselves, 
which prevents us from seeing ourselves, which dis- 
guises- the truth. In a word, the source of all the 
rest, is, " That our heart is deceitful above all 
*' things" 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN. 87 



FOURTH PART. 

jOo we wish, my Brethren, to know this truth still 
more extensively, and still more in detail, let us re- 
flect upon the various illusions of which our heart is, 
in every respect, capable : This shall be my fourth 

article. 

In the first place, I observe that the heart often 
imposes upon the understanding, even in the judg- 
ment which it forms. Let us select a man of pene- 
tration, and intelligence ; a man who is acquainted 
with all arts, sciences, and discoveries ; whose judg- 
ment concerning what is true or false, on these sub- 
jects, is correct. Direct his attention to other things, 
suppose civil transactions, in which he feels himself 
little interested, either on behalf of himself or his 
friends : He is no longer the same man ; his pene- 
tration, as well as his integrity, appears to have for- 
saken him; he strives to reconcile his judgment with 
his desires, and he employs his understanding for no 
other purpose than to support the decisions of his 
heart, and to establish the justice of his claims. By 
degrees he persuades himself that reasons, which are 
weak, and, at most, only probable, are true and de- 
monstrative. The heart espouses these reasons ; the 
mind acquiesces, and compels itself, frequently, to 
think of them, to consider them with pleasure, and 
to look upon them in a light which is agreeable, and 
favorable, to self-love; he discovers in them, the 
clearest evidence, as if they were infallible, and at- 
taches all their force to the subject. These preju- 
dices, once supposed to be true, lead to other illu* 



88 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



sions, and are a perpetual source of false deductions. 
For instance; if in a concern, in which we are pre- 
possessed in our own favor, we meet with any one 
who contradicts us, and disputes our authority, we 
immediately condemn his reasons, we no longer ap- 
prove of any thing he can say, or propose : And we 
often go so far as to hate not only his person, but 
even his adherents — his familv — his friends: what 
then is the consequence ? After we ourselves, have 
been deceived, we endeavour to deceive others ; and, 
so far as we are able, we inspire them with our sen- 
timents and passions. Strange effect this, of the illu- 
sions of the heart! I observe that they have the same 
effect in almost every thing else. Were we to judge 
of an author — a preacher — a book — a sermon ; we 
should form our judgment differently, in proportion 
as we liked, or disliked, the person concerned in it. 
His words, or his writings, would appear to us more 
or less valuable, accordingly as our heart was affected 
towards him. Even our judgments often vary res- 
pecting the same persons, and the same things, in 
proportion as our affections change. Every thing is 
excused — applauded— approved; when we begin to 
form better sentiments of the man we blamed, and 
whom before we could not approve. It appears that 
our eyes are open, or shut, according to the influ- 
ence of our passions. So true is it that our hearts 
deceive us 1 

Do you imagine, my Brethren, that it is otherwise 
in religious matters, than in those of other things ? 
Ah ! if any particular passion, such as lust — envy — 
love— hatreds— ambition — the desire of glory ; is ca- 
pable of perplexing— of obscuring, the light of our 
souls, and making us judge erroneously in things of 
common life ; how much more in things of religion ; 
in which we find duties which combat the interest of 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 89 

all our criminal passions ; of our pride — our ambi- 
tion — our pleasures? How much more have those 
different interests, which cause our hearts to revolt, a 
tendency, frequently, to deprave our mind, and make 
us judge erroneously of spiritual things ? 

I observe, in the second place, with what care we 
swell the idea of things that please us, by the efforts 
of an heated imagination, which ascribes to them a 
beauty, and a value, they do not possess. The ima- 
gination, seduced by the heart, endeavours to dignify 
the passions; it sometimes strives to remove that 
which is too large, or too small, in order to impart 
more delicacy, spirituality, and elevation. It con- 
ceals from us the short duration of pleasures — the 
vanity of the riches of the world; and, uniting the 
past and the present, with new expectations of the 
future, it gives them all the value, and all the solidity, 
in its power ; not being able to hide their brevity, it 
compensates it, by the vivacity of the sentiments 
which it excites in us, and by the force of that sensi- 
bility, which it imparts to us, in their favor. 

This leads me to speak of the illusions, into which 
men fall, on the subject of sin. It is astonishing by 
how many devices, disguises, and sophisms our heart, 
that corrupter of our reason, conducts us to sin, and 
encourages us to commit it. The pleasures of sin 
are not forgotten. It represents to us all that can 
feed our concupiscence, sensuality, and profit. If 
we have, at other times, derived any advantage from 
some object, if we have tasted of its sweets, it calls in 
our memory to its assistance ; which seduces us, by 
the remembrance of the past; and our imagination, 
swelling upon it, promises itself imaginary fecilities, 
which are quite opposed to truth. It tells us that the 
pleasure of sin is present, that the punishment of it 



90 A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAK. 

is at a distance, and uncertain ; ec Every man" saitb 
St. James, 6 ' is drawn away of his own lust, and en- 
" ticed." He makes use of two, very significant 
terms, which mark both the force, and the deceitful- 
ness, with w hich lust attacks us, and takes us, as fish, 
with the bait. But our heart is a deceiver, which 
does not shew us the hidden hook, the bitterness and 
pain, which accompany, or follow, the crime. How 
much more doth it often do? It disguises vice — it 
paints it with the colours of virtue; it makes pride 
pass for magnanimity ; covetousness for prudent eco- 
nomy; prodigality for liberality; severity for justice; 
cowardice for charity ; wrath, passion, and blind zeal, 
for a true zeal of God. Under these fine names ; 
finder these specious appearances, the crime appears 
not only lawful, but sometimes necessary, and our 
heart impels us to it. We may remark, that, the 
Hebrew term, which is here translated "deceitful/' 
comes from another, which signifies " to supplant ;" 
and from which Jacob derived his name 7 because he 
supplanted Esau, his brother. Strictly speaking, he 
supplanted him when he obtained the blessing, which 
had been, invariably, given to the first born; but 
which he obtained by deceit — by disguising himself — 
by clothing himself with the garments, and, as much 
as possible, with the form of his brother. Our heart 
is a supplanter, which often deceives blind Isaac: I 
mean our understanding; leading it to approve, and 
embrace, vice for virtue ; after it has disguised it and 
covered it with a borrowed figure. Thus it presents 
to us the counterfeit; it causes us to take the motions 
of the flesh, for the motions of the spirit; ** To call 
" evil good, and darkness light/' 

When it cannot go thus far, and hide evil entirely 
from us; what doth it? It extenuates it: This crime, 
it saith, is not very great; age., constitution, and com- 

t *«■.'. 



A "PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART Or MAN. 91 

pany, render it excusable. Let us not always believe 
these preachers ; they often proceed to extremes ; let 
us give the reins, a little, to our desires; our faults 
are only the follies of youth, although they are faults ; 
we will go no farther than a certain point, we will 
avoid extremes. But how many find themselves 
brought to ruin by this method ! How many, with- 
out thinking of it, go on, by degrees, to greater crimes ; 
after having begun with little ones ? How often is 
that which appears to us little, very condemnable, in 
its consequences, and of the number of those sins, 
concerning which, St. Paul saith, "Let no man de- 
" ceive you ; for because of these things, cometh the 
" wrath of God upon the children of disobedience.*' 
Nothing which is fatal in itself ; nothing which may 
be pernicious to the soul, whether by the number of 
crimes, or by their consequences, ought to appear to 
us little. What shall I say more? In how many 
other ways does our heart contrive to render us more 
daring in sin? Sometimes it secretly represents to 
us, either that some great good may be acquired by a 
small evil ; that a fault, in some cases, may be neces- 
sary to answer a good end ; that the intention sanc- 
tions it; that it will redound considerably to our ad- 
vantage, or to some good end, under such and such 
circumstances. "Let us do evil that good may 
" come;" we sometimes say, in opposition to St. Paul. 
Of two evils we must chuse the less, we still say, on 
certain occasions. But you, who speak thus, should 
remember, that this maxim is only true, in the evils 
of sorrow, in afflictions, and misfortunes, in which we 
are permitted (and it is natural) to avoid, as much as 
lies in our power, the greater evil, by suffering the 
jess: But this can have no reference to moral evil, 
that is to sin. No, we must never avoid an evil, by 
committing a sin, nor one sin, by committing another ; 
tout we must fly from both, and commit neither the 



92 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



one nor the other, At other times, sin is committed, 
even, upon the hope of mercy; and upon a pretend- 
ed repentance, to which we lay claim, in our last 
moments; so that we encourage ourselves in offend- 
ing God. Our heart flatters us in the following man- 
ner. "Oh! this evil will not be without remedy; 
e i mercy is prepared for it, God hath abundantly par- 
4t doned thousands of others; sin hath its time, and 
"so hath conversion; that of the latter is not yet 
*' come. In waiting we give more glory to God; we 
" have faith— we love our religion — we are exact in 
" public worship." Finally, if we do not say, expressly, 
" let us sin that grace may abound," we act as if we 
had secretly made that determination. See how our 
heart seduces us, in causing us to sin: It is not less 
skilful, in deceiving us, when the sin is committed. 
It labours either to make us forget it, or excuse, and 
defend it. When our conscience would awake, it en- 
deavours to lay it asleep, by flattering it, or else to 
deafen it by clamor ; it excites other passions; it pre- 
sents to us other pleasures, and, in keeping us thus 
occupied, it prevents our listening to the voice of con- 
science. Thus those who sacrificed their children to 
Moloch, made, around the idol, a great noise with 
drums and trumpets, that they might not hear the 
pitiable cries of those innocent creatures, whom they 
caused to pass to it, through the fire. We also stupify 
ourselves by worldly business, by thoughtlessness, by 
the turbulence of our passions, that we may.not hear 
the reproaches of our conscience. On the other side, 
ingenious in making, and finding, excuses, in order 
to defend our faults, or, at least, to extenuate and di- 
minish, them ; we complain of ourselves: What can 
we do? is our cry; temptations are powerful — occa- 
sions pressing— examples prevalent ; and we are 
feeble ; we are only flesh ; we have not power to de- 
fend ourselves; we are rather to be pitied than. 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 93 



blamed. But oh ! what a great deceiver is our heart! 
This weakness, which proceeds from our corruption— 
from our bad habits, and the defect of our will : Can 
it excuse us ? After all, our power is greater than our 
will. And to prove this, we have only to observe, 
that, in the most violent temptations, it often hap- 
pens that a little thing enables us to surmount them. 
For instance, when a man, inflamed by the violence 
of a brutal passion, which he is ready to gratify in a 
place secluded from observation, suddenly sees a per- 
son, whom he fears or respects; or even when he is 
apprehensive that the eye of some one witnesses his 
crime; his passion is instantly arrested; shame, or 
fear, is sufficient to calm him, or to suspend his most 
impetuous motions. Let a judge appear before two 
men, whom revenge, and fury, have impelled to fight 
a duel; immediately their whole concern is to fly, or 
hide themselves. Only convince the greatest drunkard 
that the wine, which he is about to drink, is poisoned, 
and you destroy the desire which he had to drink it 
Hence it appears, that, although the soul hath not 
sufficient strength to overcome illicit passions, by a 
true conversion, without divine grace ; nevertheless, 
it has always, if it will make use of it, some power 
which, on certain occasions, it might still exert, to re- 
sist the most violent fits of passion. It is, therefore, 
the defect of the will which causes our weakness, 
and which only aggravates our guilt, instead of 
excusing it 

Men are very subject to come forward, and main- 
tain, that their passions are just ; pretending to prove 
it, by the powerful reasons which excited them, and 
by the provocations which stimulated them. Thus, 
Jonah pretended to be right, when irritated against 
God himself, because he had made his gourd to 
wither ; and had the temerity to say, " I do well to be 



94 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



" angry" How many are there who maintain that 
they did well, in being angry, or that the injuries, and 
malice, of others, justify their violence, and their re- 
venge; or that the magnitude of their evils has justi- 
fied their impatience? But, what avails it thus to 
excuse ourselves ; sometimes throwing our faults upon 
our neighbours ; sometimes accusing the Devil of our 
crimes; then saying that we do nothing but what 
every body else does, and that we cannot be more 
perfect than the saints themselves, who have so often 
fallen t All these vain pi'etexts, with which we wish 
to cover ourselves, only serve to prove that our 
* ( Heart is deceitful above all things." But, per- 
haps, some one may say, that his heart hath ceased 
to deceive him, at least, since he resolved to forsake 
sin, and to repent. Ah! if it were so, we should 
never have repentance imperfect and deceitful! and 
you know how often this hath been the case ! Yes, 
our heart frequently deceives us, in its resolutions 
against sin ; for it is not willing to put forth all its 
strength. We may, very often, say of it, what Senaca 
said to one of his friends, who informed him, that a 
certain vicious man had, at last, formed the resolution 
to amend his life. (( Believe him not/' said Seneca, 
" not that I would say that he is a liar, he believes 
({ that he speaks the truth, he thinks himself willing/' 
Our heart, sometimes, imagines itself willing to for- 
sake sin, but it is not effectually so. It is the fore- 
most to deceive itself; it doth not intend it, absolute- 
ly, and without restriction ; it hath only faint desires — 
a will imperfect and conditional. 

Oh ! what contradictions ! what divisions! what re- 
serves ! " I would forsake sin/' saith our heart ; but 
there is another voice, which saith, " I will not for- 
rc sake it." Thus it is that we have a double heart — a 
divided heart— a heart for the new man — a heart for 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 95 

the old man — a heart for God — a heart for the world; 
and; unhappily, that which is for the world has, almost 
always, the pre-eminence. Do we form the resolu- 
tion to abandon our sins ? They are only certain 
sins, and we retain the rest; or, we only hate sin in 
certain cases; and accompanied with certain circum- 
stances; or we only hate it in a certain degree- 
Finally, we are often satisfied with an unfruitful re- 
pentance ; we mistake for true repentance, some emo- 
tions of sorrow, such as we are capable of feeling, on 
account of some worldly trouble ; a grief, which is 
only transient, a sorrow, without reformation; or 
which only produces a very imperfect one. Behold! 
how our heart still deceives us, when it is necessary 
to forsake sin ! 

I might here enumerate a complication of illusions, 
of the heart of man, into which he frequently falls, on 
the subject of faith and religion — of divine service and 
exterior worship — of morality and practice. Do you 
imagine that the heart hath not had a considerable 
share, in Pagan idolatry ? Do you believe, that it was 
not that, which corrupted the understandings of men, 
so as to cause them to serve gods, which were shame- 
ful — ridiculous — blackened with crimes ? It is the 
heart that wishes to adore, in them, its true idols, which 
are its vices. Do you suppose that the heart hath 
not had a considerable influence, in all religions, which 
are carnal, and superstitious? Was it not the heart 
which invented those that are subservient to politics, 
and which have worldly pomp for their object, such 
as the religion of Rome ? Think you that it hath not 
contributed to the rise of heresies, and all errors, con- 
cerning the faith ? These errors, which curiosity — 
pride — the love of novelty and singularity — infatua- 
tion and stubbornness, generate, nourish, and defend; 
heresies, which St. Paul classes among the works of 



96 A PORTRAITURE OF THE ttEART OF MAX- 



the flesh? In respect to religious worship, it had 
never been loaded with so many ceremonies, if the 
heart of man had not been too fond of sensible things. 
The heart hath substituted the services of superstition 
for the duties of true piety, and hath often made men 
believe, that, an exact, and scrupulous, attention to 
these exterior services, is sufficient not only to supply 
all the rest, but even to do more than will save them, 
and secure the merit of works of supererogation. 

Finally; in respect to morality, and practice, it is 
the heart which causes so manv men to err concern- 
ing the chief good • and upon the number of virtues 
and vices. It is this dangerous counsellor, which al- 
ways induces us to waver — to retrench something from 
our duties, and, generally, to delay the observance of 
them. It is the heart which poisons our best actions, 
or which brings evil out of good ; causing pride, and 
presumption, to spring even from virtue and justice; 
which occasions one of the most dangerous tempta- 
tions to believers themselves. 

After this, who will not acknowledge that the heart 
is full of fraud, and C( deceitful above all things?" 
Deceitful by its inconstancy ; deceitful by its infidelity ; 
deceitful by the excess of self-love : deceitful by the false 
judgments which we form in a thousand instances ; de- 
ceitful when it inclines us to sin, and when it is neces- 
sary to repent; deceitful in religion, in worship, and 
morality. Thus the hrst truth of our text is sufficiently 
proved. We must defer the others to another oppor- 
tunity : And now, only, make some application of what 
we have said. 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN. 97 



CONCLUSION. 

The chief use,, my Brethren, which we ought to 
make of the truth of my text, is, greatly to distrust 
ourselves, and not to depend, too much; on our own 
strength. "He that trusteth in his own heart is a 
"fool," saith Solomon, in the 28th. chap, of Proverbs. 
A man is not esteemed very wise, when he always 
confides in a villain, who hath, already, deceived him 
several times. We do not pity him, even, when he 
is duped, and yet after having proved, hundreds of 
times, the weakness, and infidelity, of our heart, we 
stiJl confide in it! What folly! St. Peter asked 
Jesus Christ, cc How often shall my brother sin 
against me, and I forgive him ? until seven 
" times ?" And I now ask you, how often shall we 
forgive our heart? We, willingly, pardon it more 
than seventy times seven. Ah ! if we were but less 
indulgent to it, if we punished it for its frauds, by 
refusing its desires, by often mortifying it with bit- 
terness — with fastings — with tears; it would less 
often deceive us ! But, while we are reproaching 
ourselves for the past, let us become wiser in future. 
We have learned, to our cost, what our heart is ; let 
us then, henceforth, be less imprudent. Let us not 
believe it when it saith, (< I shall never be moved :" 
this is the voice of praise, and ec Pride goeth before 
" destruction :" far from believing it, when it in- 
sinuates that we may trust ourselves ; and, that, being 
stronger than formerly, sin shall not be able to over- 
come us ; let us hearken to the voice of the wise man, 
who saith, " Blessed is the man that feareth al- 
" ways :" and to the exhortation of St. Paul, who 

a 



98 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

crieth t6 us, " Work out your own salvation with 

"fear and trembling !" 

My Brethren,, we should never confide in it, but 
as in a tamed lion. Let Us always suspect lest na- 
ture, stronger than the precepts we have received, 
and than the progress we have made in regeneration, 
should revive, and repeat its attacks. Do we not, 
every day, see those heats, if we may so speak, of 
constitution— those sudden workings of corruption^ 
which break forth, turning every thing upside down, 
even in good men, when they are not sufficiently upon 
their guard ? What was the sin of David, but one 
of those sudden returns of ferocity — of wickedness, so 
natural to the human heart, which bereaved him of 
all his past piety ? His soul was off its guard, it was 
asleep ; and sin entering the eyes, by stealth, passed 
into his heart. Good God ! what disorder did it cause ! 
He who had said ; " I shall never be moved/' clearly 
saw, that his heart had deceived him. And whj 
should not we be as prudent for our souls, as we are 
for our bodies ? When we feel — when we believe, 
we are healthy ; this thought — this sentiment ; does 
not, in general, prevent us from taking necessary 
care ; and we are not so confident of our health, as 
not to be careful, at the same time, to preserve it by 
diet and exercise, and by avoiding unwholesome air. 
Let us then, at least, do as much for our souls. It is 
necessary, when we most depend upon our heart, that 
we should do so with restriction, with jealousy over 
ourselves, with exactness, in detecting all the occa- 
sions of sin. In a word, my Brethren, since it is a 
deceiver, let us be humble — vigilant — persevering in 
prayer — careful to examine ourselves continually. 

Yes, Christians ! Be ye humble. What greater 
motive to humility, can you have, than to think that, 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN, 99 



ef yourselves, you are able to do nothing but destroy 
yourselves ; and that you only go on from error to 
error? Be vigilant, always have your eyes open. 
" Be on your guard/' said a general, (c against an 
€ f enemy who never sleepeth." Your heart is just 
such an enemy, it never sleepeth ; beware of its snares 
— its sudden attacks— its ambuscades. An historian 
mentions a certain people, who so concealed them- 
selves, in the eaves of mountains, and rocks ; " that it 
(C was more difficult to find them, than to conquer 
" them." To conquer our passions, it is necessary to 
discover them all ; they are a people who conceal 
themselves in dens and caverns ; whence they issue 
fortl^ suddenly, in order to assail us, and afterwards 
they hide themselves. Let us then be always active, 
in seeking after these passions, and discovering them, 
if we wish to vanquish them. Christians ! let us join 
prayer to watchfulness, since prayer obtains grace ; 
and, without grace, it is not possible to obtain the true 
remedy for the deceitfulness of our heart. Let us, 
frequently, examine this heart. This deceiver hides 
itself by means of darkness ; let us, every where, carry 
the torch of divine light, and let it no longer have any 
lurking places, into which we do not follow it. Let 
me entreat you, my Brethren, to draw some further 
inferences from our text, for instance, be not so much 
astonished, as you have sometimes been, at the trea- 
chery of men, with regard to yourselves, you, w1k> 
complain, with anger, of that false friend, who has de- 
ceived you ; did you imagine, when you placed con- 
fidence in him, (c That all men are liars/ 3 and every 
heart full of deceit ? Consider that this friend hath 
only acted towards you, as you have acted, a thousand 
times, towards God ? Console yourselves : intreat the 
Lord to correct the hearts of your false friends, and 
your own heart ; and do not, henceforth, depend too 
much upon any one, since you can depend so little 
upon yourself H 2 



100 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



I, moreover, conjure you not to be offended, so 
much as you have been, at the faults of good men: 
You would wish that ministers, or persons who have 
once appeared to you religious, should be always so ; 
and in every thing. This would be very desirable. 
But pity them, they have a "deceitful heart" as 
well as you ; it deceives them in a thousand things, 
of which they are not aware. Intreat the Lord, that 
he would discover to them all their failings^ and to 
you all your own. 

Be you mindful also, fathers and mothers, of what 
you have to do with, in the education of your children, 
f£ A heart deceitful and desperately wicked. 3 * Ma- 
nage it with prudence — keep a tight rein upon it — 
restrain it — labour to reform it in time — do not per- 
mit vices to grow and multiply. 

Lukewarm professors ! you who flatter yourselves, 
in consequence of some exterior marks, that you are 
the children of God ; take heed to yourselves, lest the 
idea, upon which you value yourselves, should prove a 
mere delusion ; like the dream of " Him who" ac- 
cording to the expression of Isaiah, " Believeth that 
" he eateth and drinketh, and behold when he 
<c awaheth, his soul is empty." What misery, if 
your life should be a perpetual dream, and,, if, in 
death your soul should awake and be found void of 
grace; after having, falsely, imagined itself to be full! 
The thoughts of a man, who hath only the religion of 
the times, and those of a true Christian, sometimes 
greatly resemble the dreams of the chief baker and 
the chief butler; but the issue is dreadfully different. 
Beware of being one of those time servers, who de- 
ceive themselves. Do not confide in your heart; be 
afraid lest it should deceive you; unless, by every sa- 
tisfactory mark, you are sensible that Jesus Christ is 
truly within you. 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 101 



Finally,, let us all endeavour to acquire true since- 
rity, in the sight of God, by breaking off all our sins, 
by setting the Lord always before us/ and by taking 
heed to all our ways. May God deign to change our 
hearts — to pardon the unhappy remains of deceit, 
which are found in them — to make us, henceforth, 
perfect in his covenant; and to exalt us, one day, by 
Jesus Christ, to the mansions of purity, perfection, 
and glory. AMEN. 



h 3 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART 

OF MAN. 

SERMON IV. 

Jeremiah, xvii Chap. 9 Verse. 

" The Heart is deceitful above all things, and 
desperately wicked; who can know it?" 

mm -WrtTfSW— • 

My Brethren, 

There has long been a considerable controversy, 
both in the world and in the church, upon the subject 
of the pow ers of man, and upon the nature of his cor- 
ruption. No one will dare to deny that he hath some 
propensity to evil, or, that he is not naturally inclined 
to it. But is this inclination violent or feeble ? Does 
it depend, solely, upon the impressions, more or less 
strong, of surrounding objects? Is it, as certain meir 
pretend, a consequence of that liberty, so much boast- 
ed of; which being indifferent, in its own nature, may 
incline us equally, to evil or good; and which too rea- 
dily determines on the side of evil? Or is this incli- 
nation become so violent, since the fall of the first 
man, that it infallibly drags after it the heart and thp 
understanding; and, which, being born with us, is. 
strengthened by habit, and becomes, in every age of 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 10S 



life, so much the mistress of our thoughts and actions, 
that without the supernatural succours of grace, our 
thoughts are only evil continually, and our heart is 
constantly a slave to vice ? 

Which side shall we take in this pursuit? Shall we 
»ay, with the Pelagians, that the powers of man are 
still perfect, nearly as in his first creation — that nature 
hath not suffered any loss, and that there is no original 
sin ? Shall we, at least, persuade ourselves, with some, 
that if our faculties are weak, and have received some 
injury, we have, nevertheless, a free will, always master 
of itself, which can make the balance incline to good 
or evil, as it pleaseth : And that it may determine on 
the side of good, notwithstanding some inclination to 
the contrary; it requires only to be assisted by a clear 
revelation of the truth, and by promises and threat- 
nings, sufficiently powerful to influence it, especially 
under certain favorable circumstances, directed by 
Providence : or, without intending to flatter man, shall 
we strip him of all the pretended powers, of which his 
pride still dares to boast? Shall we shew him his 
nakedness — his deformity — his moral inability; and the 
excess of his corruption ? Shall we make him renounce 
himself; lead him trembling, and confused, to the feet 
of the Almighty; and endeavour to save him, by the 
path of humility, and the aid of grace? 

My Brethren, notwithstanding all that the advocates, 
whether open or secret, for the powers of the human 
will, and the merit of works, may imagine, upon this 
subject: Notwithstanding all that the infatuated phi- 
losopher — the haughty pharisee — the blind pelagian — 
the academic — the popish priest; may say upon it: 
Notwithstanding, the prejudices which the college, 
the warmth of dispute, and the high opinion of our 
works, may have caused : We will not range ourselve* 



104 A. PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



under this standard. No, although, in this dispute, so 
many take the part of man, we ought not to do it; 
experience, and, above all, divine revelation, hath 
taught us better: Divested of the absurd ideas which 
false reasoning would give us— convinced by senti- 
ment, and reflection, of our extreme weakness, and en- 
deavouring to save ourselves in the way of truth and 
humility ; and by the renunciation of ourselves, we 
will join the party of the prophets — of the apostles, and 
of all true believers : And we will say, with J eremiah, 
or rather with the spirit of God, the teacher of Jere- 
miah, and of all the prophets; as well as of ourselves ; 
f< The heart is deceitful above all things, and despe- 
" rately wicked; who can know it." 

This is a text, my Brethren, which we have before 
attempted to explain to you ; and which appears pe- 
culiarly proper for our present meditation. We told 
you, in the first discourse, that the prophet here draws 
the portrait of the human heart, in three principal 
characters : The deceit, the malice, and the depth of 
it : And that we have likewise three propositions to 
treat of: The first; that " The heart of man is de- 
" ceitful full of fraud and illusions The second, 
v That the heart is eminently wicked." And the 
third; that the heart is concealed — enveloped — pro- 
found — impenetrable. Of these three propositions, 
we have only treated upon the first, which refers to 
the deceitfulness of our heart. 

There remain two truths, or propositions, to be 
proved. The first is, that the heart is full of extreme 
malice: " The heart is desperately wicked, above 
(< all things." The second is, that the human heart 
is concealed, and difficult to be known ; which the 
prophet expresses by an interrogation : (C Who can 

know it?* But, after having considered these 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN. 105 

truths, we have found that we cannot properly treat 
both of them at once, without going to an excessive 
length 3 we shall therefore confine ourselves, accord- 
ing to the following order, to that which respects the 
malice of the human heart. We shall first make some 
preliminary remarks : Afterwards, we shall prove 
the truth of our text from scripture, from reason, and 
from experience. These three general heads will 
furnish us with many reflections, and many particular 
proofs ; and they shall constitute the three parts of 
our discourse. The subject is interesting and fruit- 
ful : Abundance of things may, with propriety, be 
said upon it. It is an ocean of our own corruption : 
Who can discover all the monsters which it cherishes 
in its bosom ? Who can penetrate into all its recesses ? 
I wish only to say, upon it, what will make us sensi- 
ble of the horror of our natural state. Oh ! that the 
Holy Spirit himself may teach us ; Oh ! that by his 
help, while discovering to you your plagues, I ma\* 
contribute to heal them ! Oh! that we may learn to 
know ourselves, that we may be able to correct our- 
selves I AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 



I Observe, in the first place, my Brethren, that the 
malice of the heart is here properly joined to its de- 
ceitfulness ; as being the cause and source of it 
Whence is it that the human heart is so deceitful ? It 
is, because it is depraved — corrupt — extremely wicked. 
A good and honest heart would not be guilty of so 
many abominable actions — a heart purified by grace 
is less fruitful in illusions : Nevertheless, after all, in 
believers themselves, the remains of corruption have 



106 A PORTRAITURE OF THE H&ART OF MAN. 

fctill, at times, but too much power to deceive us ; and 
to cause us to fall. But a heart abandoned to its na- 
tural corruption, is, necessarily, an active principle, 
and fruitful in errors and deceitfulness. The malice 
of the heart blinds the understanding 1 : <( Sinis a beam 
* c in the eye of the soul," which prevents it from see- 
ing. The passions raise the smoke which darken our 
reason ; and then how is it possible that our heart 
should not deceive us ? We do not even perceive its 
frauds ; nor do we suspect that it is the cause of them. 
As we sometimes lose the sense of taste, so we may 
also lose the consciousness of the soul. Accustomed 
to sin, because it is born with us ; as it is increased, 
and strengthed, in us, with age ; as it fills us from all 
quarters ; presses us, to speak thus, equally on every 
side : We no more feel its weight, than a swimmer, 
who plunges himself under water, feels the weight of 
the liquid waves which are over his head. Hence it 
is that our heart deceives us, because it feels not its 
true state. It infects the whole man with its malice; 
our thoughts — our words — our actions — our judg- 
ments; and, at the same time, we believe, for the 
most part, that all is well : " The heart is deceit- 
ful," because it is <( desperately wicked, above all 
things" 

I remark, in the second place, that Divine truth 
doth not flatter man ; it paints his corruptions in colors 
so black, that sometimes, one would be ready to say 
that it exaggerates them. The prophet is not sa- 
tisfied with saying cc The heart is wicked;" he de- 
clares " It is desperately wicked, and wicked above 
" alt things" What? is the heart of man more 
wicked, than the Devils, who were the first that rebel- 
led against God, and who seduced our first parents? 
My Brethren, the question is not whether the malice 
•f man is greater than that of Devils, or whether it ap- 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN, 107 



pears, at least sometimes, to equal it. We must not 
extend this expression, (c wicked above all things/ 1 ' 
beyond its proper bounds : It only points out, that the 
malice of the heart is extreme in its kind— that it rs 
not only wicked, but very wicked — "Desperately 
** wicked." Yes ec Desperately for man, is by na- 
ture lost, worthy of hell: (( Desperately f for man 
is, naturally, incurable by means ordinary, and merely 
human. It is said, that a man is desperately diseased, 
when neither art nor remedies can contribute to his 
cure. A miracle must be wrought, say they, in order 
to restore him. In like manner, the heart of man 
would be in a desperate state, if there were only ordi- 
nary means to heal it. Every one has experienced it. 
Physicians, and empyrics, have come to it, and have 
effected nothing. The empyrics are the politicians, 
the philosophers, and the false sages of this world ; with 
their palliative remedies, their lenitives, and the lessons 
of their pretended wisdom . What have they proposed 
tor the cure of the human heart? Physicians, I mean 
the prophets, the true servants of God, have applied ex- 
cellent remedies, but not sufficiently strong for the re- 
storation of enfeebled nature. Philosophy has not 
effected the cure of man : The law itself could not 
sanctify him. Its promises, and threatnings, were 
only like those medicines which, in some small degree, 
revive nature, and, after putting it in motion, weary 
it; but do not restore it. The grace of Jesus Christ 
was absolutely necessary. Man can only be healed 
by miracle — by the miracles of the spirit of God — by 
his supernatural help. We must have a heavenly 
physician ; who is Jesus Christ; and a divine remedy, 
which is the grace of the holy spirit. The nature of 
the remedy shews the power of the disease, invincible 
jn itself, without something supernatural. It is there- 
fore true that, of itself, " The heart is desperately 
" wicked/' 



108 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



But, in order to examine this subject to the bottom,, 
we have promised to prove it, from scripture— from 
reason— from experience; and to draw from these 
three sources, various particular reflections, calcu- 
lated to establish it. I begin with the scriptures. Let 
us here call to mind, what religion teaches us rela- 
tively to our corruption. 

In the first place, it teaches us that we are all cor- 
rupted from our birth; that " That which is born of 
" the flesh is flesh," and that, ec A clean thing cannot 
f< be brought out of an unclean." In a word, since 
the fall of our first parents, there hath been a perpe- 
tual propagation of original defilement from fathers 
to children ; insomuch that we are all "Born in sin 
" and shapen in iniquity" 1 do not here pretend to 
enter into the controversy upon original sin. I am 
persuaded that whosoever, without prejudice, examines 
the bible, will find that it teaches, and discovers it ; 
that it shews us the origin of it, which the heathens 
did not know; and that thus, whilst it justifies God, it 
charges, Adam and Eve, with having introduced it into 
the world. The general confessions of Christians ac- 
knowledge it : The sacrament of circumcision under 
the old, and of baptism under the new, covenant, de- 
clare and prove it. And we cannot give a good rea- 
son for the contradiction which is found in man, be- 
tween the light of the spirit, and the evil propensities 
of the heart, nor for our inclination to evil, from our 
cradle ; without admitting that we are all born with a 
bad moral disposition, and that by it, we are " Children 
" of wrath" 

In the second place, both scripture and experience 
teach us, that this inclination to evil passeth into prac- 
tice, in proportion as we become capable of acting. 
" The corrupt tree cannot bring forth good fruit" 



/ 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 109 

Original corruption disposes us to all kinds of bad ac- 
tions, and causes us to commit a great number of ac- 
tual sins. The egg, which encloses the serpent, is 
quickly hatched. The seeds unfold themselves, and 
produce,, in proportion as they are cherished in our 
bosom.' We pass from the inclination to the act, and 
then, frequently, from the act to the habit. Our cor- 
ruption is increased, and strengthened, by a repeti- 
tion of the same sins, and by our imitation of the bad 
example of others. Here we should observe, that 
when, according to the scriptures, we speak of the 
corruption of the human heart, we look upon it just as 
it is ; not only in its birth, but in its strength in adults ; 
where it is already productive by actions, and increased, 
and fortified, by habit. Moreover, the greatness of 
human corruption, quickly appeared, after the begin- 
ning of the world, by the extreme depravity of its first 
inhabitants ; which obliged the Lord, after much long 
suffering, to send the deluge upon the earth. And it 
afterwards appeared by the idolatry, and abominable 
vices, which spread themselves throughout the whole 
world, notwithstanding the various examples of divine 
justice. 

In the third place, the scripture teaches us that 
this depravity, of the heart of man, is universal ; that 
is to say, it hath taken possession of all our facul- 
ties, and infected the whole soul. Oh! sad leaven, 
which hath leavened the whole lump ! Oh ! dreadful 
leprosy, which hath not only begun to appear in the 
wall, but which hath infected the whole house ! 
% From the sole of the foot, even unto the head, there 
6C is no soundness in it ; but wounds and bruises, 
" and putrifying sores." It is not only the inferior 
part of the soul, the sensitive appetite, the desires and 
affections, that are corrupted; but it is also the supe- 
rior part ; the understanding, the crown of the head, 



110 a fOli % K A IT U K E OF THE HEART ©F 



which is wounded. I know it may be said that thd 
understanding is, in some respects, less depraved than 
the heart; because it retains some imperfect ideas of 
things, and some light by which to jndge of them i 
Without which it would be impossible to reclaim 
man, to persuade him, or to recover him. I know it 
was not in the understanding that the evil began ; but 
in the heart, the passions, and affections. It is they 
that obscure the light of the mind, and corrupt the 
judgment But after all in sinful man, " The under - 
" standing is darkened, 3 ' as St. Paul expresses it. 
The eye of the soul is blind, and if this eye be dark- 
HesSj, how great is that darkness? As our Lord ob- 
serve. It is very remarkable, that the scripture saith, 
not only that our understanding is darkened; but it 
calls our state, before our conversion by the gospel, 
darkness itself. " The light shineth in darkness, 
<( and the darkness comprehendeth it not :" It there 
speaks, not only of the Gentiles, but also of the Jews^ 
And St. Paul saith to the believing Ephesians, " Ye 
« were sometime darkness." This expression is ex- 
ceeding strong. * Darkness" by ignorance, studied, 
and voluntary: " Darkness" by prejudice, errors, 
and false maxims; with which the mind is gradually 
filled, and the heart persuaded, in favor of the pas- 
sions. te The natural man receiveth not the things 
" of the spirit of God — neither can he knoio them, 
" because they are spiritually discerned " Oil \ how 
striking is this, when we properly reflect upon it I 
Our will is still more culpable than our understanding ; 
this queen, which so abuses her powers, and her pre- 
rogatives, is more frequently accused in the scriptures. 
This it is which "Is not subject to the law of God, 
" neither indeed can be " in consequence of a moral 
inability; because it is tied hand and foot by its bad 
habits. This is i( the carnal mind which is enmity 
" against God." This it is which is <c Subject to the 



A PORTlLVITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN. Ill 

€i law of sin which is in our members :" This is the 
heart which the spirit of God calls uncircumcised — 
impure — hard — a heart of stone ! 

Finally, my Brethren, the corruption of man is a 
general evil, from which no one is exempt, considered 
altogether without grace. " Both Jews and Gentiles 
" are all under sin ; as it is written, there is none 
" righteous, no not one : There is none that under- 
" standeth, there is none that seeketh after God; they 
"are all gone out of the way, they are together be- 
" come unprofitable : There is none that doeth 
"good, no not one." These expressions are very 
strong and very comprehensive. We meet with some 
men who, when it is necessary to explain certain ex- 
pressions of scripture ; " To be dead in sins — to be 
"alienated from the life of God — to be in dark- 
" ness ;" and others which are similar; imagine that 
they extricate themselves by saying that this respects 
only the state of the Heathens, before the Christian 
dispensation ; and they explain these expressions in 
reference to them, without extending them to the 
state of other unconverted men. But I see that the 
scripture goes farther than they do ; it concludes the 
Jews, as well as the Greeks, under sin. I see that St. 
Paul, after having said to the converted Ephesians, 
" Ye were dead in trespasses and sins," unites also 
others with them • the Jews and himself before their 
conversion. "Among whom also," saith he, "We 
" all had our conversation in time past, in the lusts 
" of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and 
" of the mind ; and were by nature the children of 
" wrath, even as others" I see, that, in these strong 
expressions; " To be the servant of sin, to be sold 
"under sm:" Jesus Christ and his apostles, speak 
of the Jews, as well as the Gentiles. Our Lord speaks 
tA the Jewi, in the 8th. chap, of John, when he alleges 



112 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

this general maxim ; " Wliosoever committeth sin is 
" the servant of sin/' When St. Paul, in the 7th. 
chap, of Romans saith, " I am carnal sold under 
t£ sin :" Is he not speaking of himself, at least, un- 
der the character of a man who is under the law, 
and, consequently, who is not under the darkness of 
paganism ? We may then affirm, that scripture 
speaks of all men in their natural state, when it paints 
their corruptions in such glaring colors : And what 
it sometimes saith, upon a particular occasion, it fre- 
quently, elsewhere, extends to all. Yes! it is of all, 
that it pronounces, <c The heart is, above all things, 
"desperately wicked." 

I expect here that some one will tell me, that all 
these passages, and the expressions, we have just 
cited, are too figurative to be taken literally; and 
that they are full of exaggerations, and hyperboles. 
If this, however, be so, one thing is very strange ; 
which is, that the scripture is every where hyperbo- 
lical ; that it, every where, exaggerates the corruption 
of man ; and that it never reduces things to their 
true standard. If it only spoke, after this manner, in 
one or two places, the objection would have some 
plausibility. But it speaks thus in the prophets, and 
the apostles ; it speaks thus even in the historical 
parts ; and in reference to doctrine and instruction, 
as well as when it endeavours to stir us up by ex- 
hortation. The expression is found in the doctrinal, 
as well as in the pathetical parts ; and in those places, 
which prove that no one can be justified without the 
grace of Jesus Christ — that man is lost without the 
gospel. 

But who could believe that exaggerations, which, 
to speak thus, should be taken only with limitation ; 
expressions which could not be made use of unless 



t 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 113 

custom, and bad example, had rendered the greater 
part of men very wicked ; but who, notwithstanding, 
still possess a free will, with sufficient power to do 
good : Who, I say, could believe that such, over- 
strained, expressions, which must be reduced to a 
sense that does not include any inability morally in- 
vincible, can be solid and convincing proofs of the 
necessity of grace — of the gospel — of a redeemer ; 
and of the insufficiency of the law for the justification 
of man ? 

To this, my Brethren, we must add, that the scrip- 
ture is not less strong in expressions, which it makes 
use of, to represent the change which grace effects 
in man ; it does not represent it as an easy change, 
such as that which is made in two states, differing 
only a little from each other : It speaks of it as an 
entire change, extremely difficult. It calls it (( a 
cc renewing — a resurrection — a new birth — a crea- 
" tion t" and it, infinitely, exalts the power of God, 
which produces it. Let them say as much as they 
please, that these expressions, being metaphorical, 
and figurative, ought not to be extended beyond 
their proper bounds : I aver, that figurative expres- 
sions are not employed, by wise authors, unless to 
represent, in a strong and lively manner, that which 
simple expressions do not sufficiently set forth. Fi- 
gurative expressions should have their realities ; others 
wise they are false. They suppose a resemblance 
between the thing from which the expression is bor- 
rowed, and that to which it is applied : and we can 
never reasonably imagine, that a change, which man 
is able to effect by his own power, can properly be 
called a creation — a resurrection. We are then 
obliged to conclude, that the novelty, and energy, of 
the terms, which the scripture makes use of, to re- 
present the moral change which is effected in man ; 
prove this change to be very difficult, and very great : 

i 



1 14 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

And from the difficulty, and greatness,, of this change, 
we must conclude that the corruption of man, which 
precedes it, is extreme and desperate,, in itself; which 
is the truth contained in my text, 



SECOND PART. 

I Proceed to the second ground of proofs, which 
is th,at which may be drawn from right reason. By 
this I do not mean reason solely ; nor shall I avail 
myself of any of those fine, and good, things which 
philosophers may have said upon the degeneracy of 
the soul, and upon its present state. But I mean a 
reason which having, in other respects, learned some- 
thing of what the word of God teacheth us, examines 
what it ought to imbibe. And I say., that with a rea- 
son thus enlightened, and a little attentive^ we may 
easily comprehend that the corruption of man must 
be very difficult to be healed. 

In the first place, we see that it is born with us ; 
that it hath its origin in our very bodies, in our blood, 
in the mechanical motion, if I may thus speak, of our 
system, our animal spirits, and, what we call, the 
passions. A motion which is certainly irregular- 
excessive — violent; from whatever source it may 
come. A motion which is communicated to us by 
our mothers, in the womb in which we are formed. 
But who does not see that this motion enslaves the 
soul ; that it attaches itself, violently, to sensible ob- 
jects, from the time that the body and soul are 
united together ; and, consequently, before it is ca- 
pable of reflection ; before it makes use of all it* 
powers ? Doth not the example of children clearly 
prove it ? Why does this happen ? because the soul 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 115 

is so much accustomed to this first impression, that 
it is not even inclined to oppose it, when it might ; 
it finds too much difficulty in resisting it, to do it 
effectually. So that, what is born with us, passes, 
in some sense, into our very nature, and thus be- 
comes, as it were, invincible. 

In the second place, my Brethren, right reason can 
only comprehend what is the strength of habit; and, 
above all, of a habit which is hereditary , of long stand- 
ing, and confirmed by repeated acts. There are many 
things which are not born with us, which are only the 
effect of a bad education, or of an evil custom, which 
nevertheless, by degrees, and in process of time, enter 
so strongly into our constitutions, that they become 
natural to us; so that we cannot get rid of them. In 
proportion as you give way to a wrong disposition of 
mind, an aukward posture of the body, an improper 
pronunciation; it will, at last, be almost impossible 
to direct this wrong bias of the mind into a right 
channel; to make straight a body that is crooked, or 
to teach to speak plainly the tongue which is accus- 
tomed to stammer, to utter a wrong sound or impro- 
perly to lay the accent upon certain letters or sylla- 
bles. How much stronger must habit be, with re- 
spect to sin? It begins in the cradle; it is even 
born with us; it is very often, yea, almost always, 
strengthened by education ; and also by custom ; the 
repetition of its acts is joined to the first inclinations; 
years roll round, and the habit becomes fixed. In 
other things you see examples, which demonstrate 
that there are straight bodies, excellent minds, active 
hands, and tongues which pronounce properly. But 
here, the examples we behold, are examples which, 
in general, strengthen, excuse, and increase our cor- 
ruption. Here the impression of sensible objects and 
opportunities, is united to our natural inclination 

i 2 



116 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

What force then must vicious habits have, cou firmed 
by so many things? God is represented as saying in 
the 13th. chap, of Jeremiah, " Can the Ethiopian 
" change his skin, or the Leopard his spots ? Then 
Ci may ye also do good, that are accustomed to do 
cc evil." I clearly perceive, that the habit of sin, ren- 
ders us incapable of feeling the greatness of the evil, 
which it has occasioned. It stagnates in us — the mon- 
ster sleeps; and so long as nothing awakes it, so long 
as it is permitted to take its full repose; while we are 
not inclined to expel it, we feel not its sting; it 
wounds us not — it appears tranquil — we do not com- 
plain of it, I clearly perceive, that the habit of sin, 
renders us incapable of wishing to forsake it, because, 
the more we accustom ourselves to it, the more we 
love it, and commit it with the greater facility and 
pleasure. Finally, we clearly see that habitual sins> 
reigning, and tyrannizing, in the soul, must render it 
deaf to the voice of God, and bind it with double 
chains: So that it requires miracles, altogether ex- 
traordinary, to heal a heart, which the habit of sin 
hath rendered " Desperately wicked " 

I add to this, a reflection, which reason, enlighten- 
ed by the word of God, may easily make: — which is, 
that the change which sin has made in man, is a change 
of his principal destination ; but a change of his prin- 
cipal destination alters the whole, in moral things. It 
is nearly the same in navigation ; accordingly as you 
direct your course towards the east or the west, the 
north or the south: This change of the end or the 
point at which you wish to arrive, causes you to change 
your route, your efforts, and the whole course of your 
voyage. Pay particular attention to this : The change 
which sin hath made in man, is not merely a variation 
from his main point, a wandering from the w'ay of 
truth : He has taken a course directly opposite to 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 117 



that which he ought to have taken. Instead of taking 
God for his sovereign good,, and his chief end, he 
hath taken the world for his sovereign! good; and_, 
establishing self for his chief end, he hath made his 
happiness to consist in the gratification of self-love, 
and the enjoyment of the creature. A corrupt heart 
hath properly no other end, but to act for self, and to 
satisfy its own desires, by the enjoyment of the things 
of this world This is what regulates all its actions: 
Hence it is that, strictly speaking, they are all bad, 
because they have wholly deviated from the original 
design, for which they were instituted: And they all 
tend, either directly or indirectly, to a bad end. This 
it is which renders the human heart, naturally, so in- 
curable ; because it must be made to change, univer- 
sally, the principle, and end, of its actions. * The 
44 heart is above all things desperately wicked." 



THIRD PART. 



1 Proceed to the third general source of proofs, we 
shall make use of, to establish this truth; which is 
" experience." This is joined with reason and scrip- 
ture; and we have already supposed it, more than 
once, in what we have said. But there are new con- 
siderations with which it will furnish us. In the first 
place, experience teaches us, that the heart of man is 
capable of an infinite number of vices and crimes. 
Consult history — laws — books — the lives of men. — 
What doth history speak of, butof human passionsand 
their ravages; of crimes, and the punishment of them? 
What few examples of virtue, among a thousand 
examples of jealousy — cruelty — murder ! Disorders 
produced by lust — ambition — pride — covetousness— 

iS 



118 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

the wrath of men ! Why so many books — so many 
laws — so many legislators — so many judges — execu- 
tioners — prisons — punishments ; but that the heart is 
so C( Desperately wicked," that it needs the curb to 
hold it — bonds to restrain it — penalties,, and punish- 
ments, to repress it — to punish it- — to guarantee so- 
ciety, in general, from the injuries which individuals 
might do to others? Who can enumerate the mul- 
titude of sins, and vices, of which man is capable ? 
The psalmist said, that 7 The number of his iniqui- 
" ties were more than the hairs of his head. 3 ' It 
may be said that they are not only the particular acts 
of sin, which are more difficult to count than our 
bairs, but that the number of different vices, and 
the different kinds of corrupt dispositions, of which 
man is susceptible, equals, or exceeds, that of the 
hairs of his head. This made St. Augustine say, in 
his confessions ; " Man is a wonderful abyss. His 
" hairs are all numbered by thee, O Lord, but never- 
theless it is much easier to know the number of his 
" hairs, than that of the motions, and affections, of his 
"heart." We behold a fine image of the human 
heart, in the vision of Ezekiel, in the 8th. chap, of his 
prophecy. God had transported him to Jerusalem, 
he placed him in different parts of the temple, in the 
outer and inner court; he caused him to turn him- 
self various ways; he discovered to him all that 
passed in the apartments of the priests, in the court of 
the people, and in the interior part of the temple. 
But what did the prophet every where perceive ? 
New idolatries — new abominations; and still greater 
and greater enormities. Too striking a figure of the 
corrupt heart! This ought to be the temple of the 
Lord; but it is every where defiled, and prophaned : 
. 1 if we had eyes, as piercing as Ezekiel, to pene- 
trates to discover, all that passes in this house; we 
shouM see, in it, scarcely any thing but abominations ; 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 119 

and, frequently greater and greater crimes. What 
David saith of the wicked, in the 7th. psalm, is true 
of all hearts abandoned to themselves : " Behold he 
" travaileth with iniquity" St. James makes use of 
an expression which is very just, although very strong; 
when he calls the tongue a H World of iniquity." But 
may it not, also, be trmy applied to the heart ? since 
the heart is the source of all the venom which infects 
the tongue; and contains still more poison than it 
sends forth by it. <e For out of the heart/' saith 
Jesus Christ, "pro ced evil thoughts, murders, adul- 
<{ teries, fornk Lions, thefts, false icitnesses, bias- 
" phemies." I must here prevent an objection, which 
may be urged ; which is, that all hearts are not 
capable of every kind of wickedness. Are there 
not some, to whom, many vices are unknown, and 
who are very far from feeling an inclination to com- 
mit certain crimes ? I answer, that it is, perhaps, an 
effect of one part of the deceitfulness of our hearts ; 
to believe ourselves incapable of certain sins, because 
we have never committed them. But put these better 
hearts to the proof of temptation ; let God, for a short 
time, leave them to themselves; let them be a little 
while in the school of vice, and in the company of the 
vicious ; and you will see that this is a soil which 
easily receives all kinds of bad seed; and that when 
any is cast into it, by bad example, it too easily shoots 
forth. I know that every man hath not all kinds of 
vices, and that there are some who appear to have 
good natural dispositions, and are contaminated with 
but few crimes. But, if you speak of persons whom 
religion, and grace, have not changed; I aver that 
this difference proceeds from divine providence, 
which hath seen proper to restrain, and regulate, in 
various ways, the corruption of the human race ; with- 
out which society could not have subsisted, and the 
world itself would have been a hell. Providence 



120 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN* 



makes use of various means to effect this : The light 
which still glimmers in the conscience — that of philo- 
sophy — the laws of wise legislators — the diversity of 
constitutions — the want of opportunities — the judg- 
ments of heaven ; and a certain measure of the spirit 
of conviction, diversely dispensed ! These are the 
means of which God makes use to moderate the 
corruption of man ! At the same time, whatever dif- 
ference there may be between one man and another, 
our hearts are, in other respects, very much alike. 
Represent to yourselves, my Brethren, a lion, tamed 
and chained up, seeing a troop of other lions, in 
all their ferocity, in the midst of a flock of sheep, 
tearing and devouring them, and even pulling to 
peices the shepherd who kept them: Suppose this- 
lion capable of reasoning ; he might congratulate 
himself upon this ; that he was not cruel, like the 
other animals; that he had not made the same 
use, as they had, of his nails, his claws, and his 
teeth ; and that he had not committed the same 
dreadful ravages. You would undoubtedly tell him, 
that this was not ascribable to his nature, but to the 
attention of his keeper, who had tamed him with a 
thousand cares, and a thousand dangers; that his for- 
bearance was partly in consequence of the chain that 
held him, that so little dependence was placed upon 
him, that they durst not leave him without his chain ; 
and that he only required a few days liberty, and hun- 
ger, in the woods and deserts, to render him as cruel 
as the others. This is what we ought to say to our- 
selves, in reference to certain enormous crimes, cer- 
tain excesses of fury, of barbarity and malice, which 
we see in other men. If we congratulate ourselves, 
upon not haying committed such enormities, let us not 
imagine that this proceeds from ourselves ; let us con- 
clude that we are only like tamed animals ; but that 
^ ithout our keeper, his care, and j the chain which 



X PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 121 

holds us, we might very soon be their equals; cc And 
" run with them to the same excess of riot/* 
The many different kinds of crimes, therefore, which 
men commit, serve to prove this thesis, iC That the 
heart is above all things desperately wicked." 

In the second place, my Brethren, experience 
teaches us, that the greater part of men, are guilty of 
an affected, and voluntary, ignorance with respect to 
their duty. But an affected ignorance is a striking 
proof of the malice of the human heart. Why does 
a man make so many efforts to be ignorant of himself? 
Why take so much pains to avoid self examination, 
and to fly from the light of truth, which confounds 
him ; but that ec The heart is desperately wicked?" 
God calls us, and we close our ears against his voice 
<c Like the deaf adder — to the voice of the charmer." 
The light of the gospel shines all around us, and we 
shut our eyes that we may not see it: "Men love 
iC darkness rather than light" Jesus Christ ce came 
" to his own but his own received him not. He that 
" doeth evil, hateth the light, lest his deeds should 
" be reproved." Was not the blindness of the Jews, 
in reference to Christ, wilful and malicious ? They 
said we see ; they were not blind by an involuntary 
ignorance, which is, in some measure, excusable; they 
were so through obstinacy and malice, and therefore, 
" Their sin remained." But is it the Jews alone 
who are thus voluntarily blind ? How many men are 
there, who will not know the truth, lest they should 
be obliged to embrace it? They elude the clearest 
passages of scripture, or they " Wrest them to their 
" own destructioii" How many wicked men are 
there who will not learn their duty? They are glad 
to misinterpret certain passages of scripture, which 
appear to them too much levelled against vice : Some- 
times they even ridicule the whole scripture, and en- 



122 A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN# 



deavor to weaken its authority. Whence come their 
prophanations, and their railleries? How is it that 
so many people read so little the word of God, and 
good books ? Whence is it that others are so little 
attentive to sermons, and that they despise them, but 
that they are unwilling to be driven from their strong- 
holds ? They love to be left in this kind of ignorance, 
and forge tf ulness, of their state, and not to have their 
consciences much awakened. Their heart despe- 
rately wicked, wishes to be ignorant of its duties, or, 
at least, not to think upon them. Whence that 
pain, which every one feels, from censures and re- 
proofs? If they are given, in general, from the pul- 
pit, and in mild terms, they make no impression ; they 
are permitted to pass without effect ; and no one is 
disposed to apply the m to himself. If they are a little 
particularized, and in strong and pointed terms ; some 
are offended at them, some are ashamed, some com- 
plain, and some rise up in arms against the preacher. 
If these reprimands are given face to face, and in 
direct terms, the man flies into a passion ; he cries out 
calumny, calumny ! he wishes to know who raised the 
report, or represented it so to his disadvantage. 
What St. Paul said; " Am I therefore become your 
1 enemy y because I tell you the truth is not am- 
bitious with regard to most people: We become 
their enemy by telling them the truth: They will 
readily cry out with Ahab, " Hast thou found me O 
"mine enemy P* Oh strange ! A physician is es- 
teemed our friend, when he tells us that we are sick — 
that there is something wrong in our system — that 
remedies must be provided and taken! And lo, he 
who points out to us the infirmities of our soul, is be- 
come an object of our hatred ! "What does this prove ? 
but that the heart is, naturally, incorrigible^ " and 
* desperately wicked." 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 123 



This extreme malice of the heart appears, in the 
third place, by divers aggravating circumstances, 
which frequently accompany the sins of men. Ah ! 
if they fell only into sins of surprize, this might arise, 
it seems, from a moderate degree of corruption. It 
might be said that there was in it, more of weakness 
than of malice. Again, if men sinned only through 
ignorance, I mean involuntary ignorance ; here they 
would have a plausible excuse, which would, at least, 
greatly diminish the sin. But they sin knowingly, 
they sin with deliberation ; they sin a hundred, yea, 
a thousand, times, after promises to the contrary ; 
they have pleasure in those that sin ; they endeavour 
to cause others to sin ; they abandon themselves to 
vices which appear to have in them neither pleasure 
nor profit. They refine upon crimes ; not being 
satisfied with committing common sins, they give 
themselves up to the most enormous. What mon- 
strous aggravations; not, indeed, in all sinners, but 
more or less in each of them; sometimes altogether 
in individuals ; and which, whether taken separately, 
or unitedly, too evidently prove this truth ; that, 
"The heart is desperately wicked above all 
"things!" Nothing is more common, than for 
men, to sin against knowledge and conscience; 
there is scarcely any man, who hath not some sin of 
this kind with which to reproach himself. We have 
a clear, and distinct, knowledge of our duty ; we 
know, for we cannot be ignorant, that such and such 
actions are crimes: Very often our conscience can- 
not be silent, it troubles us, it cries to us, in the act 
itself, "Miserable man; lohat art thou doing?" 
At the same time, we are determined upon sinning; 
we surmount all obstacles, to effect it. What strength 
of corruption ! What amazing weights, which turn 
the balance, in spite of every thing that should res- 
train us ! See, those sinners who not only sin against 



124 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



knowledge, but with premeditated design, with de- 
liberation, and a long chain of crimes linked toge- 
ther. I must revenge myself, saith one, let the con- 
sequence be what it may : And upon this he forms 
his plan. But this plan cannot be executed without 
much time, artifice, and dissimulation ; by preparing 
snare after snare for his enemy, and by watching fa- 
vorable opportunities, that he may not miss when he 
strikes. He therefore watches many days, many 
months, and sometimes many years, to accomplish 
one bad design. He calmly and deliberately, thus 
to speak, revolves these dreadful enterprizes in his 
mind, and nothing diverts him from them. Oh ! what 
malice ! See that other man inflamed with an impure 
desire; what will he not do to corrupt the innocency, 
and purity, of that person who appears to him the 
most amiable! Oh! what cares — what flatteries — ■ 
what presents — what assiduity — what unremitted at- 
tention! What artifices and pains to accomplish his 
design, and satisfy his brutal passion ! Once more : 
If sinners fell only once or twice into great crimes., 
into the crimes which they pursue, there would be 
some limitation. But their whole life, oh horrid ! is 
one continued chain of similar designs. One passion 
allayed ; another rises up. They cannot live with- 
out some shameful intrigue, some unlawful com- 
merce, or some desire of revenge — avarice — lust — 
or ambition. A life without crime would be to them 
a kind of death, or, at least, of indolence and repose ; 
perfectly uncongenial to them. Moreover, formal 
professors, who do not glory in sin, like professed 
profligates : what do I say ? believers themselves 
who hate it, nevertheless fall into it, in spite of their 
vows, their repentance and promises. Nothing can 
more evidently prove, than these repeated falls, the 
strength of our corruption. 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 125 



What shall I say of those sinners, who are no lon- 
ger restrained by modesty and shame, who far from 
blushing at their guilt, make of it a point of honor; 
ridicule what is said against it, and laugh at the re- 
proach they incur : And who, frequently in respect 
to debauchery, drunkenness, and impurity, boast of 
crimes, and of the repetition of sins which they never 
committed ? What shall I say of those, <c Who not 
<( only commit such things, but have pleasure in 
" them that do them." As St. Paul speaks : Of men 
who love and praise wickedness, even in others, in 
whom it is commonly detested ? Dreadful and dan- 
gerous friends who seek to make their companions 
ec Two fold more the children of hell than them- 
S£ selves V* Corrupters of others, who solicit them 
to do evil, who harden them, in spite of the admoni- 
tions of conscience, and who drag them after them, 
by their example, their raillery, and their seduction. 

The more I survey the world, the greater proofs I 
find of the truth contained in my text. In one place 
I see a woman, who is a slanderer by profession, 
whose tongue spares no one, and who by a depth of 
malice, which yields her no profit, takes pleasure in 
destroying the reputation of every body. Fruitful in 
imagination — in calumny — in ridicule : Ingenious at 
drawing ridiculous portraits, and cloathing in false 
colours all the actions of her neighbours, she pours 
upon others, without ceasing, the venom of her 
wicked heart, Elsewhere I find men whose danger- 
ous pens, dipt in gall, take pleasure in writing defa- 
matory libels and satires ; not those ingenious satires 
which attack only vice, without wounding any parti- 
cular person, and which have no other design, but to 
correct men, by shewing them their defects. But 
those malignant satires, frequently rude, which attack 
and expose particular persons, to the ruin of them- 



126 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

selves and families. What a^ bad heart must that per* 
son have, who employs himself in writing obscene 
and filthy books ; as if he feared the imaginations and 
the hearts of other men were not sufficiently -inclined, 
of themselves, to corruption. Thus he becomes the 
author of a thousand sins, and a thousand evils, which 
he can never repair. How evil must be the heart of 
that sceptic, or of that atheist, who endeavors not only 
to destroy in himself the idea of a God, because it is 
troublesome to him ; but who endeavors to destroy it 
in others, although this can be of no profit to him : 
of that man who takes pleasure, a diabolical and dread- 
ful pleasure, in embarrassing all things with difficulty, 
and in throwing the minds of all into labyrinths and 
doubts, from which they cannot extricate themselves. 

I farther represent to myself, how many sins there 
are which appear to have in them neither pleasure 
nor profit. I allow that the slanderer, the satyrist, 
and the sceptic, find some pleasure in making others, 
and themselves, laugh; and that they feel a secret 
joy in their malice. But are there not vices in which 
nothing of the kind is found ? For example, what pro- 
fit, what pleasure, is there in swearing ? Which of 
the senses is pleased, by those vollies of oaths, which 
are so often emitted from the mouth of the common 
swearer ? Is not this sin equally contrary to our re- 
putation, and our present interest, as well as our future 
happiness ? Doth it not appear directly contrary to 
the chief end 6f sinners/which is the love of themselves, 
and the preservation of their lives ? How many liber- 
tines are there, whose crimes urge them far beyond 
all pleasure, and to whom the marks of sin, even in 
their bodies, declare what they have suffered ? At the 
same time they sell, they prostitute, their vigor, their 
health, and their days. What pleasure, what utility, 
is found in envy, which is an executioner -to the man 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 127 

who cherishes it ? What can we think when a furi* 
ous man, in order to kill his enemy, is willing to perish 
himself — to be pierced whilst he pierces him — to be 
thrown down headlong, provided he crush his adver- 
sary in his fall. What conclusion can we draw when 
men, not contented with simple pleasure, seek after 
enormities; when, disgusted with ordinary vices, 
they refine upon crimes ; when the more restraints 
and laws there are, the more pleasure they take in 
bursting all barriers ; and, above all, in improving 
upon the excesses of others? This is a thousand 
times worse than the poor savages, who only follow 
corrupt nature, who follow it without refinement, and 
who only know vices simple, less complicated, and 
less enormous. But, at length, the persons of whom 
we speak, fall into blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, 
which is said to be an apostacy purely malicious, and 
deliberate, without fear, or desire to impel to its com- 
mission. Tell me, all you who hear me, if this does 
not demonstrate, by proofs beyond all exception, 
" That the heart is above all things desperately 
wicked ?" 

Finally, my Brethren, we shall finish our proofs 
drawn from experience, with what the hardness, and 
the total and final impenitence of most men furnish 
us. That man should be a sinner, does not astonish 
me ; but that he should be a sinner to the last, by an 
obstinate perseverance, and a voluntary and stubborn 
resistance to all the means that God makes use of to 
convert him, is what appears most astonishing. At 
the same time, consult experience, and you will see 
that this hardness of heart, in man, hath resisted the 
hammer of the law ; witness the Jews ; and that it 
resists the sword of the gospel ; witness all our false 
professors. The hammer of the law, weighty and 
powerful as it was, could not break the hearts of the 



128 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

Israelites ; those hearts of steel — of stone — of ada- 
mant, as the prophets call them. The chastisements 
llki | ■ — afflictions — temporal judgments, 4ake- so many 
1 blows of a club, could not conquer the prodigious 
malice of that ancient people ; which caused Jere- 
miah to say : " Lord thou hast stricken them, but 
" they have not grieved ; thou hast consumed them, 
t( but they have refused to receive correction ; they 
"have made their faces harder than a rock ; they 
"have refused to return" See these Jews in the 
wilderness; God could soften them neither by the 
force of his threatening^, nor by the influence of his 
goodness, nor by the power of his judgments. They 
w r ere always a people, stiff-necked, and un circumcised 
in heart This people, immediately after the publi- 
cation of the law, that publication so awful, and so 
, terrible, at the foot of that same mountain from which 
God had forbidden them to make any graven image ; 
that mountain which still smoked, made a golden calf, 
and bowed down to that idol. Follow their history 
under the judges — follow it under the kings, before 
the captivity and after it; and you will see a series 
of examples of the hardness of their hearts. See 
these same Jews in the da\s of Jesus Christ! The 
scribes and pharisees, would not suffer themselves to 
be overcome, either by the excellency of his doctrine, 
the holiness of his life, the glory of his miracles, or 
by the proofs which he alleged, from the ancient 
prophets, to convince them that he was the Messiah. 
Convinced without being won over, they stood in 
their own light ; they conspired against his life, upon 
the ground of his having done many signs. And if 
there were a few amongst them who sinned through 
ignorance, it is certain that many sinned by a deli- 
berate malice. Jesus expired ! and, at his death, the 
heavens grew black — the earth trembled — the rocks 
were rent — the graves opened,, but the hearts of the 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 129 

Jews, harder than the stones, remained callous. 
Nothing in nature was quiet but these hearts, which 
were unmoved. Christ rose from the dead ; they 
were informed of it ; they hardened themselves; they 
stopped the mouths of the soldiers ; they resisted the 
Holy Ghost, speaking by the apostles, and put the 
Christians to the most cruel deaths. See what the 
heart of man is capable of ! 

But once more, what do Christians themselves? 
The word of God, " That two-edged sword, which is 
V piercing, even to the dividing asunder of soul and 
(( spirit, and of the joints and marrow;" which in 
itself hath a power, an admirable excellence, to pro- 
duce the greatest effects in the heart, provided it be 
not obstinately resisted, is, by our malice, like a sword 
of lead, which being blunted, cannot penetrate. 

We live under grace, and we are insensible. We 
harden ourselves against remonstrances — -against 
ministers — against the convictions of our own con- 
sciences — against blessings — against chastisements. 
If God often afflict us — if he strike us with redoubled 
blows, we become accustomed to it; like the back 
and skin of a miserable slave, who no longer feels his 
lashes. If God load us with benefits ; prosperity only 
adds to our vices. cc What remedy is there for a 
(c city/' said a wise man, C{ When neither peace nor 
" war brings any profit to it." What remedy is there 
for us, when neither fears — nor hopes — nor war — 
nor peace — nor prosperity — nor adversity — nor de- 
feats — nor victories, are capable of changing us ? 
Ah ! many of us prove but too evidently, (( That the 
" heart of man is above all things desperately 
" wicked V And God grant that many of us may 
not still verify it by our future life, and in our death : 
A death, in which our hearts will not cease, for ever, to 

K 



130 A PORTRAITURE OP THE llEART OF MAN. 

be deceitful, nor to be hard ! What do I say ? How 
many persons do we see who are still cold and insen- 
sible, who hear their pastors only from motives of 
form or complaisance, who do not love even to see 
them, and who die as they lived? How many are 
there, at the awful crisis of death, who are nearly as 
hardened as Nabal ? It is true there are some men 
who fear and tremble, but with so few marks of 
genuine repentance, so few signs of a true conver- 
sion; with so many evidences, on the contrary, of the 
mere terror of a slave, that it evidently appears that 
their hearts are unchanged. Go on then, complete 
the last evidence of the extreme malice of this heart ; 
for final impenitence is the top stone of it. This is 
sufficient, and too much, my Brethren, to prove the 
truth, which we have undertaken to establish. We 
shall reserve for another time, if Providence permit, 
the difficulty of knowing the human heart; and shall 
now conclude with drawing some inferences from 
what has been said. 



CONCLUSION, 

Now, Christians, our principal business, is, faith- 
fully to examine ourselves. We have drawn a hide- 
ous portrait of the heart of man : Let us see if this 
portrait does not resemble us ; or rather, if we are not 
the original whence it is drawn. Ah! let us not 
flatter ourselves ; " The heart of man is deceitful, 
<( and desperately wicked." This heart belongs to 
each of us, at least considered in our natural state. 
What matter of confusion — of horror — of tears — of 
condemnation against ourselves! Oh dreadful! my 
God, how are we disfigured ! how different from what 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 131 

our first father was in his innocence ! how degenerate 
is our nature — how sad and deplorable our state — 
how far are we from God — how deserving of his dis- 
pleasure and wrath ! Alas ! if we had only this origi- 
nal defilement — this general unhappy inclination to 
evil — these seeds of concupiscence,, which are born 
with us ; and if these seeds were destroyed in the cra- 
dle ; a thousand bad effects would be prevented ! But 
our original corruption is like a fountain., which pours 
forth its waters; it is awfully fruitful, in a thousand 
kinds of iniquity : We are these desperately wicked 
ones, who have added to our natural depravity, thou- 
sands of actual sins, and who have strengthened our 
evil habits, by hundreds of renewed crimes, and re- 
peated falls. 

On this account, my Brethren, ought we not to sigh 
and be confounded ? Let us plead the cause of God 
against ourselves — let us prepare the tribunal in our 
own conscience, and doing justice to our heart, let us 
condemn this rebel with proper severity. But I greatly 
fear, that, upon this subject, we resemble those cor- 
rupt judges, who seeing themselves obliged to con- 
demn a criminal, to whom they are partial, treat him 
with much external severity; and secretly endeavor to 
prevent the execution of the sentence. Careful, in 
the first place, to save him, they never fail to shew, in 
appearance, their love to justice, in proceeding against 
this culprit, and even cause him sometimes to be hung 
up in effigy. We frequently do the same thing : The 
preacher, the moralist, declaim against the human 
heart; every one subscribes to what they say and 
write, and, in conversation, every one can describe the 
state of man. But all this amounts to nothing; it is 
merely hanging the criminal in effigy; it is only con- 
demning our portrait, and punishing our image; whilst 
we screen the true culprit, excuse ourselves, spare our 

K 2 



13§ A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



own hearts, and cherish our crimes. We must now 
act with more sincerity ; we must pass condemnation, 
and deliver up the criminal to the justice of God. 
Yes, Lord, we recognise in ourselves, much of the 
heart, which has been described. Shall we not say, 
when thou declarest, " That the heart is deceitful, 
* v and desperately wicked" always capable of be- 
traying thee; "Lord is it if" Is it my heart, 
that is thus formed ? We are each of us this traitor, 
this perfidious wretch ; " We are the men" Ours 
are the rebellious hearts, which have rejected thy 
laws, which have often been wilfully ignorant of their 
duty, or which have violated those duties they have 
known. We have been too much like those incorri- 
gible hearts, which have sinned against knowledge, 
resisted exhortations, and which neither good nor evil 
could overcome. Happy for us, if we cease, at last, 
to be what we have been too long ! 

Courage, my Brethren ! survey every part of your 
conduct, and endeavor to correct yourselves. Weigh 
well your faults, and the greatness of them. Remem- 
ber to do it with exactness ; for ec A false balance is 
€C an abomination to the Lord:" And there is no- 
thing in which we have a more false standard, or a 
more unequal balance, than in our defects. Why 
are we not equally as exact, and as good judges, in 
our own cause, as in that of other men? We excuse 
scarcely any thing in them : We well know how to 
tax and condemn their vices : Why do We not the 
same in respect to our own? Do we imagine that it 
is the will of God, that we should have one weight for 
ourselves, and another for our neighbours, let us ra- 
ther be severe upon ourselves, than too indulgent. 

I do not wish to pass over certain objections which 
may be made : For instance ; that in representing, so 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 133 

strongly, the weakness, the inability, and the malice of 
man, we discourage him, we deprive him, of the desire 
to endeavor to correct himself. What, says one, if 
all the imaginations of my heart are corrupt from my 
youth, if 1 am incapable, of myself, of thinking a good 
thought; if I am naturally desperately wicked: 
Preachers, what are you doing? Why do you speak 
to me of repentance and conversion \ You pull down 
with one hand what you build up with the other. You 
exhort me ; and you tell me that I am not able to do 
what you require of me. It is not our intention, my 
Brethren, to discourage any one, or to place obstacles 
in the wav of our own invitations. Understand our 
plan better; and pay more attention to our doctrine. 
In-order to save man, we believe that we ought riot to 
flatter him ; and we say nothing of his evil disposition 
but what experience confirms. But we say, at the 
same time, that, however deplorable his state is, he 
may be extricated from it, if he truly feel his misery, 
if he seriously desire to be brought out of this horri- 
ble pit ; and if he fly to God, by repentance, humilia- 
tion, and prayer. We declare, that, what is impossi- 
ble with man, is possible with God : That what man 
cannot do of himself, he may do with the assistance of 
grace ; that God offers this assistance ; and that, by 
earnestly praying for it, we may obtain it. Do we 
discourage man, by exhibiting to him his sins ? It is, 
on the contrary, the way to make him hate them ; and 
to excite in him a fear of the punishment which he 
hath deserved. Ah ! my Brethren, it is the will of 
God to save us by the way of humiliation, by that of 
renouncing ourselves : Let us concur in his designs. 
What subject is more proper to humble us, and anni- 
hilate us before him, than to think upon what we are 
by sin. We find matter of humiliation, when We think 
upon the condition of our body; upon the earth, whence 
it was taken, and to which it must return. We have 

k 3 



134 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN* 

still more cause to be humble, when we think upon 
the condition of our soul ; that criminal soul ; all de- 
filed — all impure ! Let us remember that this consi- 
deration ought to make us humble, not only before 
God, but before men. Since we are so much alike, in 
respect to our corruption, why should we exalt our- 
selves so much fcbove others ? A certain philosopher, 
when he saw any one overtaken in a fault, said, " that 
" he saw it necessary, in the first place, to reflect upon 
V himself; and to say, have I done nothing* like it ?" 
We should go still farther, and say to ourselves ; am 
I not capable of doing the same thing? Is that per- 
son, who hath been guilty of a fault so grievous, of a 
nature different from mine? Alas! all crimes of 
which human nature is capable, I also am liable to 
commit. Let this thought, my Brethren, be to us 
matter of shame and humiliation ! 

Here, probably, some will revolt at what I have 
advanced. They will tell me, that they do not recog- 
nize themselves, in many things which I have remark- 
ed ; they are not, in every respect, like certain 
sinners, capable of the whole ; they are very far from 
being capable of falling into the greatest excesses ; 
and, thanks be to God, they do not believe there are 
many men, in this church, of that description. I be- 
lieve, my Brethren, I have sufficiently obviated this 
objection ; by saying, that the depths of the heart are 
universally the same ; that the difference, among those 
men who are not regenerated, arises from divers par- 
ticular causes, dispensed by Providence, and not from 
themselves alone. But I will explain myself more 
fully. Without wishing to accuse any one in parti- 
cular, I believe, and would to God I might be de- 
ceived ; in the first place, that there are amongst us, 
as well as others, young men who are unclean — old 
men who are misers — slanderers— -revengeful — hard 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 135 



hearted, and, in a word, persons capable, more or less, 
of some of the things which we have pointed out. I 
believe, in the second place, that the greater part of 
our hearers, being still of the number of those who 
are not regenerated, are capable of falling into vices, 
which, perhaps, would now fill them with horror, and 
which they have never yet committed. This asto- 
nishes you ! What then is to be done ? Render thanks 
to the Almighty, who hath preserved you from the 
greatest excesses ; distrust yourselves, and labor to 
acquire a true conversion. I believe, lastly, that there 
are among us true believers, who no longer find in 
themselves, this heart of stone, this ec Heart desper- 
" ately wicked but fS A new heart, and a ?*ight 
"spirit;" a soul renewed. Oh! what consolation 
for you, dearly beloved of the Lord ! What consola- 
tion, if, while we draw the portrait of the defects, and 
vices, of our nature, you are able to say ; s< Such were 
"some of us ; but ice are washed, hut ice are sane- 
" tifted, but we are justified, in the name of the Lord 
" Jesus, and by the spirit of our God." Great con- 
solation, if you observe, no longer in yourselves any 
of these marks, except such as are similar to those 
of a writing cancelled — effaced, so that it can no 
longer be read. Above all, what consolation to you, 
if, God having converted you in your youth, you have 
never known those great crimes which others have ; 
and if you can say, that you would have been almost 
ignorant of what our nature is, if you had not learned 
it from the bad examples of the world. On this ac- 
count, do not burn incence to vour own nets. Give all 
the glory to God, prepare the trophies of his grace, 
and, at the same time, always distrust yourselves. 
Your heart is still capable of leading you to many false 
steps ; fear ever its deceitfulness, and its malice. 
Watch, without ceasing, and pray that you may be 
brought into a state of greater security. 



136 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



Let us all, as much as it lieth in us; since our heart 
is naturally so wicked, labor, without ceasing to cor- 
rect it ; and let us live in the continual practice of 
repentance Let us throw off continually, that de- 
filed garment; let us cut up, without ceasing 1 , that 
root of bitterness, which always corrupteth ; let us 
root up, every day, some noxious plant from this un- 
happy soil. Fathers ! be attentive to your children, 
by opposing, in proper time, all bad natural inclina- 
tions, by every effort of a good and pious education. 
Young men, prevent, as early as possible, your de- 
fects from growing, and proceeding to habit ; and, in 
order to this, habituate yourselves to piety and holi- 
ness from your youth. Sinners ! you who are but too 
much confirmed in your evil habits ; destroy them, by 
habits of holiness and virtue, directly opposed to your 
vices.. Believers ! neglect no one thing, even as it 
respects little defects, of constitution — of disposition 
• — of evil practices : Give way to nothing ; yield in 
nothing to the corrupt heart, which still lies in you, 
however mortified it may be. 

Above all, let every one be sensible of the necessity 
and value of grace, and ask it continually with prayers 
and tears. Divine grace ! supernatural remedy ! how 
necessary art thou to us ! What should, we do without 
thee, Holy Spirit, whose victorious efficacy can alone 
triumph over our evil heart? Come into us — work 
in us— st Create in us a clean heart "■ — take away 
our heart of stone, and give us a heart of flesh — en- 
grave thy laws in it, that we may walk in thy statutes ! 
May, he wholly change our hearts, that after the re- 
generation., carried on in us here below, we may one 
day be entirely purined/and renewed in glory. So be 
it, and to our God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
be honor and praise, for ever, and ever. AMEN. 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART 

OF MAN. 

SERMON V. 

Jeremiah, xvii Chap. 9 Verse, 

The Heart is deceitful above all things, and 
desperately wicked; who can know it?" 

My Brethren, 

IMIaN does not love things which are impossible, 
but, at the same time, he does not love those which 
are too easy. He cannot hope for success in the 
former, and there is but little honor, and glory, in 
attending to the latter. He rather prefers engaging 
in certain things, which, being difficult, without being 
impossible, excite him by their beauty and their diffi- 
culty ; and engage him, at the same time, by their 
value, and by the hope of success, to make every pos- 
sible effort to accomplish his end. Such, in general, 
are all the duties of Christianity; duties so worthy 
our attention. They are not impossible ; however 
sublime and mysterious they may appear. We may 
fully perform them, by degrees, with the assistance of 
grace, and by a laborious application. But that they 
axe not easy, experience sufficiently proves : We know 



138 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

it, and we complain of it, because of our feeble efforts 
to practice them. Such, in particular, is the duty of 
self-knowledge, which is certainly one of the first, and 
most necessary, things in religion. This knowledge is 
not impossible, with the assistance of the word of God, 
and the help of his Spirit, because the scriptures, every 
where, exhort us to endeavor to acquire it, and excite 
us to hope, that by a careful, and minute examination, 
we may arrive at the end. This knowledge is not im- 
possible, since all real Christians have acquired it ; at 
least, as much of it as was necessary for their salvation. 
They have known themselves so far as to be humble 
— to sigh — to condemn themselves, on account of their 
corruption. " They have judged themselves that 
<c they might not be judged of the Lord." Con- 
vinced of their misery, they have endeavoured to avoid 
flattering themselves ; confiding in themselves ; they 
have watched over their own heart, being upon their 
guard against its deceitfulness, and have repressed, 
without ceasing, its inclinations and passions. They 
have, afterwards, gradually increased in this knowledge, 
till they have been fully assured of their faith — their 
regeneration — the sincerity of their love to God — the 
dwelling of the spirit of God within them, and the hope 
of eternal life. 

But if this knowledge is not impossible, it is cer- 
tain, that it is not easy; that it is a rare thing, and 
that, in certain cases, we never possess so much of it 
as not to leave something still to be obtained — some 
new discovery to be made. I will venture to say, my 
Brethren, that it is, in this, merely the same as in the 
researches made by navigators, in unknown parts of 
the new world, both north and south. The universe 
already appeared wonderfully large, when we knew 
only, what we now call, " the old world," and had not 
yet penetrated into America. It afterwards appeared, 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN". 139 

"that, although this world increased ; yet navigators, 
more successful, and more courageous, than the an- 
cients, discovered many countries, and many people, 
before unknown. But how many countries, probably, 
yet remain to be discovered towards both poles ? How 
many perils, and labors, are still necessary in order to 
succeed ; whether to know the new world better, or 
to survey the extent of its limits? These toils, these 
dangers, have ceased to terrify. Many persons are 
continually undertaking new voyages, in order to 
make discoveries, in every direction, even to the ends 
of the earth. I say the same of the knowledge of the 
human heart. It is some time since we discovered its 
corruption, and its malice ; and what each of us may 
have felt, perceived, by experience and reflection, 
ought to have convinced us, that it is very great, and 
very extensive. But there are still, perhaps, unknown 
regions to discover! There is still cause for new re- 
searches, and new efforts. I acknowledge that it will 
require much labor, properly, to examine it. It is very 
difficult to penetrate into ail the hidden parts of the 
heart — to lay open all its foldings. Experience teaches 
even those who have endeavoured, hundreds of times, 
to penetrate their inmost souls ; and who have been 
often surprised to meet with new abysses, that, after 
so many researches, there still remain depths which 
they have not perceived. 

What effect should this difficulty produce? Ought 
it to discourage us, and cause us to neglect this know- 
ledge of ourselves ? Do you imagine, that when the 
scripture represents to us, in terms so strong, the 
depths of our hearts, it intends to deter us from the 
duty of self-examination, which it elsewhere pre- 
scribes to us with so much exactness ? No ; it only 
means that the difficulty should oblige us to redouble 
^ur efforts ; because the better we begin to know it, 



140 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

the more we are convinced of the difficulty of fathom- 
ing it. This is the way to improve in this knowledge ; 
to be persuaded, that the more we search if, the 
more defects we shall find in it; defects; which have 
need of grace to correct— tears to deplore — the blood 
of Christ to wash them, and the mercy of God to 
pardon them. It is with this view, my Brethren, that 
^ve have already, at different times, represented to 
you the deceitfulness, and the malice of the -human 
heart ; and that we now proceed to address you upon 
the difficulty of knowing it " The heart of man is 
<( deceitful above all things, and desperately wick- 
" ed; who can know it?" 

• It is highly proper to finish the task we imposed 
upon ourselves, in taking this text; which was to set 
before you three things. First, " That the heart is 
" deceitfid" Secondly, (( That it is desperately 
<( wicked" Thirdly, " That it is hidden — enveloped 
<( — difficult to be known." We have sufficiently ex- 
plained, and proved, the two first propositions. The 
third still remains, which will furnish us with abun- 
dant matter for this sermon. We shall divide our 
discourse into two parts. In the first, we shall set 
forth, and prove, this truth, by various reflections: 
" That it is very difficult to know the heart of man." 
In the second place, we shall endeavor to point out 
the sources of this difficulty, and the impenetrability 
of the human heart. After which we shall conclude 
with some improvement of this doctrine, and some 
means by which we may know ourselves. Oh! that 
we may labor, successfully, upon this delicate and 
difficult subject! Holy Spirit, <c Who scar chest the 
" deep things of God" and who soundest all the 
depths of man; be thou thyself our director in what 
we are about to say: But above all, send thy divine 
convictions into the consciences of our hearers, while 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEAR.T OF MAN. 141 

we speak, that they may feel all the truths we shall 
advance; that they may subscribe to them, and profit 
by them, to thy glory, and their salvation ! AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 



1^1 Y Brethren, the prophet exclaims, in speaking 
of the heart of man : " Who can know it f" This is 
an exclamation of wonder, in which we shall readily 
unite with him. The sacred writers frequently make 
these interrogations, which are equivalent to the de- 
nial of a thing, in the strongest terms. For instance, 
when Solomon saith in the 20th. chap, of Proverbs : 
" Who can say 1 have made my heart clean, I am 
t( pure from my sin ?" His meaning is ; that it is in 
vain to search among men, for hearts perfectly clean ; 
and it is, even now, a miracle, to find one among the 
children of Adam. When David saith in the I30th. 
Psalm, " If thou, Lord, shouldest mark iniquity, 
" Oh Lord, who shall stand ?" It is as if he had 
said, who can shew me a man, who, of himself, can 
stand before thee, when thou markest iniquity with 
rigor. No, my God, there is not such a man upoa 
earth. Again, when the same prophet crieth out, in 
the 19th. Psalm, cc Who can understand his errors ?" 
He undoubtedly means, that there is no one that 
knoweth all the wanderings of his heart, so as to, 
ascertain his minutest faults. We may say the same 
of the expression of Jeremiah upon the heart of man, 
" Who can know it?" It points out to us, not abso- 
lutely, that this knowledge is impossible, but that it is 
very difficult, and that no man fully knoweth all the 
malice of his heart. 



142 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

We shall make this appear more clearly by re- 
marks and 'proofs. 1 observe,, in the first place, that 
there are various kinds of knowledge of the heart of 
man ; One general; and another particular — exact 
— precise. We may have a general knowledge of the 
heart of man — of its malice — of the illusions of which 
it is capable : And we may even extend this general 
knowledge to a considerable detail. If we were to 
advance the contrary, you might say, that we our- 
selves, as ministers — as preachers ; are standing evi- 
dences that this heart may be known, since we say so 
many things of it, founded upon the scriptures; and 
even experience itself secretly convinces, and makes 
us sensible of it. Moreover, never was there, per- 
haps, so much written against man, in order to repre- 
sent his true state ; satire discovers his faults- — his, 
pride — the allusions of his self-love — the absurdity of 
human actions, which have been performed in the 
course of sixty or seventy years. It is therefore cer- 
trin, that the heart of man may be known, in some 
measure, and perhaps better than it has hitherto been. 
But it is nevertheless true, that it is not yet fully 
known ; and above all, that each of us does not suf- 
ficiently know his own. This is something similar 
to the anatomy of bodies. Anatomists, have of late 
years, made, in the human body, wonderful discove- 
ries, which appear to have been unknown to the an- 
cients. At the same time, who can say, that there is 
nothing new to be discovered in it? Besides, does 
every individual, even amongst anatomists themselves^ 
know all that may be singular — extraordinary — 
wrongly situated, and badly constructed, in his own 
body? This cannot be known but by a dissection 
which can take place only when the man no longer 
lives. I say the same of the soul and its defects. It 
may be searched, it may be penetrated, I allow. 
Happy the man, who, by the most exact search, hath 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN. 143 

discovered all its secret springs and motions ! but who 
ean say I have found out the whole ! But, however 
exact any one may be, in anatomizing the heart in 
general ; does he sufficiently know his own in parti- 
cular; in what it varies from others — in his own per- 
sonal defects? Good books are published — preachers 
study, as much as possible, the human heart ; which 
is one of their essential studies, if they intend to reap 
the fruit of their labors. But how few are there who 
read these good moral books with attention and reflec- 
tion ? How few apply to themselves what ministers 
say, or examine themselves by the portraits which are 
presented to them, or contrast themselves with them ? 
The preachers themselves, are one proof that the hu- 
man heart is not sufficiently known: Although they 
speak tolerably well, Upon it, in general, they are often 
as ignorant of their own defects, as other men are of 
theirs. It often happens, that they apply to them- 
selves but very feebly, what they preach to others. 
We see them even beating the air, in their vague 
declamations, when they combat the passions. We 
see some who draw extravagant portraits of it, and 
others who, too readily, give hopes to sinners, under 
general, and confused, ideas of grace and remission 
of sins. So many proofs (allow me to say it) which 
are found amongst preachers themselves, of whatever 
denomination, evidence that the heart of man is not 
very well known ; ec Who can know it ?" 

% ■— 

I observe, in the second place, my Brethren, that 
in respect to the heart of our neighbour, we know 
the dispositions of it only by conjecture. Therefore 
this knowledge is not only vague and general, but 
chiefly conjectural, if I may thus speak, and conse- 
quently uncertain. I acknowledge, that as the tree 
is known by its fruit, so, by the actions of men, we 
may judge with tolerable certainty, of their hearts, 



144 a portraiture of THE HEART OF MAtf. 

when these actions are frequent and reiterated, so a$ 
to have all the appearance of a formed habit, or a 
fixed malice, and a degree of atrocity, which evi- 
dences a depth of wickedness within. We are not 
deceived, when the actions are evident and acknow- 
ledged, in concluding that such an one had sinned,, 
and that, consequently, his heart was a wicked heart, 
in such and such actions. We are not obliged to call 
evil good, nor to put out our eyes that we may not 
see, or disapprove of, that which is evil. At the same 
time, how necessary are circumspection and modera- 
tion, on these occasions! There are some things 
which are doubtful, reports which are false or uncer- 
tain, actions which are, in themselves, ambiguous, and 
which may admit of various interpretations, or pro- 
ceed from principles more or less warrantable. And, 
as there are false reports, and false foundations, upon 
which we are liable to build our conjectures, it is 
equally certain, that we often draw false conclusions, 
and, of course, it often happens that we form our judg- 
ment rashly. But a rash judgment is generally erro- 
neous. Rash judgments are very frequent, and 
always dangerous to society, quite opposite to cha- 
rity > and as such, they are strictly forbidden by the 
Word of God. Hence, I conclude, that the knowledge 
of the heart of man is very difficult ; since when we 
are inclined to enter a little into the detail of it, and 
tojudge of the hearts of others ; we are liable, greatly 
to deceive ourselves — to go too far, and to make a 
thousand mistakes. And truly if the heart of man 
were less profound, less impenetrable, we should not 
need so much precaution, nor should we need to be 
so much upon our guard, to " Judge not that we be 
(C not judged." 

I shall add, in the third place, my Brethren, and 
ho one will deny it, that there are certain hearts 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 145 



particularly impenetrable, such are those of hypo- 
crites — jugglers by profession— self-conceited per- 
sons — politicians. These men have so accustomed 
themselves to art, and dissimulation, that they are 
become, in some sense, natural to them. See that 
pretended devotee ! who never appears in public, 
but in order to impose upon others, by an affected 
piety — a studied regularity — a humility at command ; 
and a wonderful air of religion in the congregation ; 
by his sighs, by his eyes, now cast upon the earth, 
and now lifted up to heaven ! This man, capable of 
deceiving every body, sometimes^ in the end, deceives 
himself, and believes himself, perhaps, to be pleasing 
to God, by his air and composed appearance. Who 
can penetrate into his heart, while he acts his part 
so well ? Here we are diffident ; charity is not sus- 
picious ; appearances are for him ; and if any thing 
escapes him, which renders his devotions doubtful, 
we are afraid to give our judgment upou it. See 
that crafty impostor! who has contracted a habit of 
fraud and artifice, to accomplish his purposes ! That 
which he says is what he least of all intends. The 
secret of his heart is covered with thick disguises, 
with folds upon folds. It would be necessary to 
follow him continually, and would require too much 
time, and labor, to find out all his false ways- — his 
craftiness — the secret motives of his actions ; iC Who 
C( can know him?" How shall he know himself? 
How shall he himself call to mind all those studied 
evasions — those depths of dissimulation — that series 
of frauds, connected together ; invented to cover one 
another, and altogether to support the whole of his 
designs ? See another description of men, very dif- 
ficult to be known : These are the self-conceited > 
but they are sincerely so ; being infatuated with a 
false zeal. There is in them a strange mixture of 
good and evil, and they prevail in certain maxims, 



146 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



or principles, where it is not easy to distinguish or 
separate them. How can we know how far they are 
excusable, and how far criminal? What are the 
sources, and the remedies, of their infatuation ? 
What is the medly which meets in all their actions, 
and how can they themselves properly distinguish it ? 
The more wise, the less willing they are to be unde- 
ceived, and their self-conceit rises, and opposes every 
resistance. Behold those politicians ! they make it 
their business to act a double part, to conceal their 
sentiments. One of their principal maxims is to be 
reserved, and to discover, only, what they wish to 
have known. They excite the conjectures of every 
one, while they themselves remain impenetrable, 
And how many of these politicians, in every court, 
in every place, are seeking employment, wherever 
they can insinuate themselves ? See how many 
hearts, and how difficult it is to know them ! 

Let us now proceed to the knowledge which every 
one has of his own heart, and which, particularly, 
concerns our text. It appears we are fully convinced 
that we may know ourselves. Some are saying this 
every day in the world, <c I know such an oiie as 
st well as I know myself. I am as certain of this 
" as I am of what passes within myself/* And St. Paul 
saith, in the 2d. chap, of the 1st. Corinthians, " What 
iS man knoweth the things of man, save the spirit 
" of man, which is in him ?" By which he sup- 
poses that, although it is impossible for us to read 
the heart of another, it is nevertheless natural to see 
what passes in our own. But without combating 
the word of God, any more than our own natural 
feelings, and the experience of all men; we will 
keep to our text, and say that the knowledge of our- 
selves is always difficult. 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 147 

We have two kinds of knowledge of the heart; 
one of feeling", or sentiment, another of reflection, 
and examination. Every one of us has the first, 
which I call that of feeling, or sentiment. I know 
well that I think so and so — that I have such and 
such an inclination — that I have certain desires — • 
certain resolutions, in proportion as they are formed 
within me. But this knowledge is very confused: 
It is rather an impression made within us, than a 
real knowledge. It passes as swiftly as the motion 
of the soul itself, and, very often, it leaves no trace 
behind ; so that it is immediately forgotten. In a 
word, it doth not always inform us of the principles 
by which we are influenced. As to the second kind 
of knowledge, which is called that of reflection, and 
examination, it is the only one that can enable us to 
say, with truth, that we know ourselves; it is that of 
which our text speaks ; it is that which is rarely, 
and with great difficulty, acquired. 

It is an astonishing thing to think, that there is 
not an individual, who properly knows, either his 
body, his spirit, or his heart. A man hath only a 
confused idea of his own countenance, and its fea- 
tures. Is any one ill shaped ? he seldom, or ever, 
looks upon his own figure, in that disagreeable light, 
in which it appears to others, and he sees thousands 
of persons, much more mis-shaped than himself. 
This man is too tall, that too low, a third walks 
badly, has an aukward gait, a disagreeable appear- 
ance in every respect, a wry countenance, and a 
thousand things of this nature. As to understanding, 
every one flatters himself, that he has a certain mea- 
sure of it, and he frequently finds others, either 
stupid, ignorant, or perverse. Has he himself an 
erroneous understanding — an imagination too strong 
— a comprehension too narrow — little judgment, and 

l a 



148 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAM. 

less sense ? He, nevertheless, decides with the 
greatest assurance, and obstinacy ; more positively 
than the most enlightened, and judicious, could pos- 
sibly do. Is a man's natural temper peevish — fretful 
■ — troublesome? he does not perceive it, and while 
he is accused of it by every one, he frequently com- 
plains of others. So true is it, that he knoweth not 
himself! But, above all, with respect to the heart; 
what cause for lamentation ! how blind are men 
upon this subject 1 Some men are every day crying 
out ; I do not boast of any thing, but of having a 
good heart. 1 have my failings, I am not perfect, 
I am sometimes a little too much in a passion, about 
this or that circumstance, but, in reality, (C I have a 
" good heart," You a good heart ! Alas ! this is 
what deceives you ; for it is the worst thing about 
you ! Poor blind creatures ! if you had properly 
known the depths of this heart, its malice, and its 
sins, you would never have spoken thus. 

Solomon saith one thing of the hearts of kings, in 
the 25th. chap, of Proverbs, which may be applied to 
all hearts ; cc The heaven for height, and the earth 
"for depth, and the heart of kings is unsearchable/' 
I allow that the hearts of princes, early accustomed 
to conceal their sentiments, well versed in the science 
of politics, of which I have just now spoken, may be 
more impenetrable than those of other men. I grant 
that the respect, due to crowned heads, prevents their 
subjects from daring to obtrude, so as to conjecture 
upon the thoughts — the resolutions — the projects of 
their kings, and from wishing to penetrate the springs 
which give motion to them. It is nevertheless cer- 
tain, that the heart of every man hath its depths, as 
well as that of monarchs — that this heart is as free, in 
every respect, as that of kings ; and that both great 
and small, sovereigns and subjects, are very much 



1 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 149 

alike in one thing, which is, that they do not pro- 
perly know themselves. Yes, these able politicians, 
who endeavor to penetrate the secrets of the cabinets 
of other princes, are often ignorant of the state of 
their own heart, and the more important secrets of 
their own conscience. These refined and pene- 
trating minds, who are occupied in conjecturing 
what passes among others, are frequently very igno- 
rant of themselves. The heart is profound, C( And 
<s above all things desperately wicked ; who can 
" know it." After these general remarks, do you 
still, my Brethren, require proofs of the difficulty of 
properly knowing our heart ? I say then, in the first 
place, that this difficulty appears, from the frequent 
commands, which are laid upon us, in the scriptures, 
to examine it — to search it — to consider our ways 
carefully. If the heart were naked and open, easily 
penetrated ; n it had not its depths — its folds — its 
labyrinths; this commandment would not be so often 
repeated, and inculcated. In the second place, this 
difficulty appears, from the necessity of surveying 
every part of our soul, and, as much as possible, all 
our motions, and all our actions. Ah ! if all the lea- 
ven of sin could be found at first sight, in one and 
the same heart, we should not need to light a candle, 
like the father of the family among the Israelites, to 
look into every hole and corner of the house. But 
this leaven is spread universally. To become well 
acquainted with ourselves, it is necessary to visit the 
superior parts of our soul, which is the understand- 
ing, to discover our knowledge — our opinions — our 
maxims — our judgment — our sentiments — our faith: 
We must ransack the cabinets of the memory. With 
what is this memory charged ? What doth it tell us 
of our past actions ? What doth it say to us, of the 
use we have made of our health — our time — our lei- 
sure — our conversation — our studies — our occupa- 

l S 



150 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN 



tions ? We must afterwards visit the obscure cham- 
ber of our affections ; where there are thousands 
upon thousands of little hiding places How shall 
we there discover all that inclines our hearts to cer- 
tain things, that which, more or less, awakes our de- 
sires, that which, more or less, excites our self-love ? 
Here are those secret inclinations which so often, 
and so imperceptibly, influence our judgments and 
our actions. Here are those last resources of sin, 
those remains of certain predominant passions, which, 
seldom entirely vanquished, and indeed rarely per- 
ceived, afterwards rally their forces, and make those 
irruptions which have so much influence upon the 
principal part of our future life. We may add, that 
in order to know the heart sufficiently, it is not 
enough for a man to visit every part, and to search 
every part ; he must bring all that he finds ; his 
thoughts — his opinions — his ideas — his maxims — his 
sentiments — his affections — his actions, to the touch- 
stone ; and try the whole by the word of God. This 
is a great work, it is a task which is not accomplished 
one time in a thousand, even when it is entered upon. 

In the third place, my Brethren, one striking proof 
that it is very difficult to know our heart, is that God 
attributes to himself the prerogative of fathoming it, as 
a peculiar right, as a characteristic, and consequence, 
of his infinite understanding ; when he saith in the 
verse following our text : " I the Lord search the 
" heart, I try the reins, even to give to every man ac- 
£C cording to his zoays, and according to the fruit of 
" his doings !" But you will say, how is this? if it 
be a prerogative of God, it doth not then behove us to 
give ourselves any trouble about this knowledge, or 
this enquiry : " The secret things belong to God V 
Let us leave to him his all perfect knowledge, as well 
as his almighty power r My Brethren, when God at- 



I 



A. PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 151 

tributes to himself alone the searching of the hearts 
and the reins, he means two things. The one is that 
it is he alone who searcheth the hearts of all men. As 
to us, as I have said, we only know what is in the 
heart of our neighbours, by certain signs, frequently 
very equivocal : or if we penetrate a little way into ano- 
thers heart, it is, chiefly, because we have one which 
greatly resembles that of others ; we know, by ourselves, 
what passes in them. If we had not weaknesses — de- 
fects — passions — a general inclination to evil ; which 
induces us, sufficiently, to reprove and correct our- 
selves, we should not form, with so much certainty, 
divers conjectures, relative to those of our neighbours. 
But this knowledge which proceeds from our corrup- 
tion, is not to our honor, because it is, in reality, 
subject to divers errors. If some men, such as the 
prophets, had, on certain occasions, an absolute know- 
ledge of the inmost thoughts of any individual; it was 
by a very peculiar privilege, and, by an express, and 
supernatural, revelation, which God gave them. And 
I have no need to say that devils and angels do not, 
perfectly, know the heart of man ; for the question 
here does not relate to them, but to God, who alone 
knoweth all things ; he readeth all hearts ; nothing 
escapes his all-seeing eye. 

The other meaning is, that God alone searcheth 
every heart, fully — to the bottom — perfectly ; without 
any thing eluding his infinite understanding, and with- 
out being deceived in the most minute article. As to 
us, however exact we may be in examining ourselves, 
whatever may be our vigilance and sincerity, our 
hearts always deceive us in certain things ; they are 
concealed from us in some respects. It is only he, 
who numbers the grains of sand upon the sea shore, 
and all the moments of time, who can also see, and 
enumerate all our actions ; who can properly weigh 



152 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



the nature of them,, and all their attendant circum- 
stances. 

This is enough for our first part, in which we were 
to elucidate, by reflections and general proofs, this 
truth; that the heart is very difficult to be known. 
I proceed to the second, in which I am to endeavor 
to point out to you some of the sources, whence this 
difficulty proceeds. 



SECOND PART. 

H Find the first of these sources in the nature of 
the soul itself, especially considered in its fallen state. 
The heart of man is free ; it sometimes acts by rea- 
son, and according to certain principles, and prospects. 
But it also acts, sometimes, without reason, by ca- 
price, and only to shew, that it is independent — its 
own master : And although this may be but seldom, 
its will is, sometimes, its own law. The heart is 
inconstant, by , its vague, and general, desire after 
happiness, and by the shameful abuse of its liberty. 
It proceeds from one object to another, because it 
finds not the sovereign good, which it searches after. 
It changes its situation, because it believes that in 
which it is not, preferable to that, in which it really 
is. It incessantly changes its thoughts — its inclina- 
tions — its desires, according to the objects which 
are presented to it, and according to the various 
changes, which take place, even in the body, to 
which the soul is united. But how shall we know 
with certainty, a heart which, to-day, is formed 
under one form, and to-morrow,, under another ; or 
rather which changes every moment? This heart 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 153 

is diseased, but with so many kinds of maladies ; — 
so violent — so unaccountable, so complex, and some- 
times, in appearance, so contrary ; and accompanied 
in every man, with so many different symptoms, that 
it requires much skill to discover them. The dis- 
ease, in consequence of the fall, is not fully known. 
That cc This heart is deceitful," we have fully 
proved ; and the illusions, into which it falls, are re- 
newed, and multiplied, almost to infinity. That it 
is desperately wicked by nature — by practice — by 
an inveterate habit, we have also fully demonstrated. 
How then can it be known without difficulty ? 

The second source of this difficulty consists in the 
present state of man ; in what he is by education — - 
by his occupations — by his dealings — the cares of 
this life — and the connection he hath with surround- 
ing objects. To know himself properly ; it is ne- 
cessary that the soul should be more at home, and 
less abroad. It is necessary that it should not be 
too much influenced by the movements of the body, 
or by the impression of exterior objects. But it is 
so tied and bound by its birth — by the demands of 
nature — by hunger and thirst — by the desire to pre- 
serve life — by the sensations of grief and joy; in 
reference to all visible objects, and all the motions of 
the body, occasioned by these objects ; it is so visibly 
influenced by the agitation of the blood and spirits, 
and all the sensations of the body ; that it is gene- 
rally in a loose, unsettled state, and never occupied 
concerning inward things. Are children taught to 
think and reflect ? Are they instructed to examine 
what passes in their hearts ? The professions which 
they are intended to embrace, the arts in which they 
are instructed, the languages, and even the greatest 
part of the sciences, which they study, have so little 
reference to morality, and the knowledge of the 



154 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



heart ; they impel them so strongly to the opposite 
side,, they so fully occupy their time — their memory— 
their imagination; and so much exhaust their powers, 
that they have no inclination to study themselves, or 
to apply themselves to the searching of their hearts. 
What takes place at a more advanced age ? They 
enter upon occupations which are more serious, and 
more embarrassing; they learn trades — they form 
connections — they are now in public life, where they 
are servilely bound, by necessary callings, to gain a 
livelihood, and to support their families. Here they 
have less self-recollection than ever : The whole of 
their life passes away in this manner. How, in the 
midst of tumult, the troubles of life ; in the midst of 
domestic affairs, and the painful duties of their 
calling, shall they find leisure, and give themselves 
the trouble, to know themselves ? 

This is a third source of the difficulty of this know- 
ledge ! It is not only our course of life, that prevents 
our applying ourselves to it ; it is a formal, and volun- 
tary, design, to continue ignorant, or not to know so 
much as we might. A thousand things might contri- 
bute to our help, in acquiring the knowledge of our- 
selves, and counteract the hinderances, and difficulties, 
occasioned by the occupations of life. For instance ; 
we have a strong inclination to love ourselves, and 
when a man loves himself, he feels pleasure in con- 
templating himself, but we all have our unfavorable 
side ; we are blind, and can hinder ourselves from 
seeing ; it is, therefore, to be feared, that when we 
discovered in ourselves many more weaknesses and 
faults, than good qualities, we should rather find our- 
selves hateful, and odious, than amiable ; and our self- 
love takes great care, to turn away from a sight so 
disgusting. 



A PORTRAITURE OP THE HEART OF MAN. 155 



The example of others, the failings of our fellow 
creatures, the judgment which other men form of 
them, and that which we ourselves form, ought natu- 
rally to lead us to know ourselves. These are 
mirrors, perpetually exhibited to our view; and it 
would be, to all appearance, very easy for a man to 
see what he is himself. There is such a resemblance 
of one man to another, of one heart to another ; the 
passions — the vices ; resemble each other so strongly, 
in general, that it is astonishing, that men do not say, 
perpetually, am I not thus ? Have I not similar de- 
fects, or nearly the same ; or, perhaps greater than 
those which I hear blamed ? That which I hear said 
of such an one, doth not he say of me in my absence ? 
But instead of this, a man occupies himself in ridicul- 
ing others; he fills his memory — his imagination, 
with their crimes and defects ; he speaks of them, he 
diverts himself with them, and whether he has never 
perceived in himself similar faults ; whether he be- 
lieves the public to be blind, or more indulgent, as to 
his conduct; whether he finds so much pleasure in 
laughing at others, that he cannot give himself the 
trouble to seek, in himself, those things which would 
mortify him ; or whether he pays no attention to the 
judgment of his fellow creatures, provided they are 
ignorant of his defects ; he very seldom avails himself 
of the example of his neighbour, to learn to know 
himself. 

Another way by which we may acquire this useful 
knowledge, is, the warnings; the remonstrances we 
have received ; and the advice which has been given 
us time after time. In our youth we have fathers — 
relations — masters, who shew us, at least, some of our 
faults, and reprove us for them. But, immediately, 
prejudiced against them, we look upon them either as 
naturally passionate, and habitually peevish, or, as 



156 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



impelled by their superiority over us, always to find 
in us something blameable ; and because they do not 
always accompany their remonstrances, with every 
thing that might render them more useful, we ima- 
gine that all they say is extravagant, and to be taken 
with considerable allowance. What is still worse, is, 
that afterwards, in a more advanced age, if grave 
persons, men of character and authority, such as mi- 
nisters, or sincere friends, offer advice troublesome to 
us, in consequence of our self-complacency, and which 
tends to disfigure the pleasing idea we have formed of 
ourselves, we immediately ascribe to them the same 
motives as to our former masters, and regard them, as 
a species of pedagogues, peevish — passionate — and 
morose. We find out a thousand pretences not to 
believe them ; we repulse them, we are angry at 
them, we receive them in such a manner as to de- 
prive them, of the desire, and courage, to admonish 
us another time. Hence it is that brotherly reproof 
is so little practised at the present day. It may be 
said, that men have made a kind of contract among 
themselves, to permit each other to remain as they 
are, to spare themselves reciprocally, and not to tell 
others what they think of them ; either that they may 
not be hated, and repulsed, or that they may not, also 
be reproved, and criticised on, in their turn. And, 
to speak the truth, the latter is perhaps the principal 
reason. We are not willing to know ourselves, we 
rather choose that others should continue ignorant of 
us, than that we should draw from them advice, which 
might discover unto us what we are. 

Finally, if the w ord of God, if sermons, are mirrors 
which sometimes discover to us our blemishes, in spite 
of ourselves, we turn away our eyes so quickly from 
the sight, that at most, we only perceive the grossest 
imperfections ; and looking upon them as common to 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 157 



human nature, this imperfect and transient view 
makes but little impression : So true is it that we have 
no inclination to know ourselves ! (c The heart is 
S( deceitful, and desperately wicked ; who can know 
it £" 

Do you wish still to be informed, whence arises the 
difficulty of knowing ourselves : See then a fourth 
source, which is the difficulty of minutely examining 
ourselves. This includes numberless things. I shall 
observe, in the first place, that upon this subject we 
are shamefully remiss, and negligent ; when we are 
even persuaded that this examination is a duty, and 
that we are obliged to attend to it, we have always ex- 
cuses ready to postpone it. The faithful themselves 
are scarcely ever wholly exempt from some negli- 
gence in this particular ; whether it be that there still 
remains in the heart an inclination to voluntary blind- 
ness, or that the difficulty always discourages us. 
When we come to put our hand to the work, we do 
it not with sufficient care ; whether it be from want 
of reflection sufficiently profound, or that we are 
ignorant of this ; that if we would know the evil, we 
must trace it to its causes, and thence to its origin. 

We may add, that those who examine themselves, 
do it too seldom, and too long after the things have 
been transacted, and when their passions have taken 
their pastime. If a merchant be too long without 
examining his books, and making up his accounts, it 
is very difficult for him not to forget some articles, 
not to be deceived in some things, not to have his cal- 
culations deranged and his affairs in disorder. We 
ought to examine ourselves often ; every week at least, 
and,- if it be possible, every day. This would be the 
way to preserve a register of every thing, not to 
forget the account we shall have one day to give, and 



158 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN# 



to keep a conscience void of offence. But nothing 
engages us less than this, nothing is more imperfectly 
attended to. Many of our actions, and more espe- 
cially many of our thoughts, and interior motions, 
leave but few or no traces, in our memory ; it is im- 
possible, if we delay but a short time, to re-consider 
what we have done and thought, that a great part 
should not be forgotten. But what do we in other 
respects? We examine ourselves in haste, we do not 
allow sufficient time for this self-examination ; and I 
confess that it is no easy matter always, to devote a 
sufficiency of our leisure, to lead us to universal ex- 
amination. It is not easy to examine the passions, 
without prejudice — without partiality to ourselves, as 
true and impartial judges, who weigh every thing in 
one accurate balance. Not to say that we often ex- 
amine ourselves by false rules, either because we 
have not a true knowledge of the duties of religion, 
or because our sentiments are licentious ; or whether 
we form to ourselves a plan of doing it, agreeable, 
easy, and conformable to our inclinations ; it is cer- 
tain that thousands of men, who appear willing to 
know themselves, do not do it as they ought. 

I observe farther, that there are often many things, 
concerning which we do not search and try our own 
hearts. For example, concerning, what are termed, 
the first movements of concupiscence ; those first 
emotions, which frequently rise in the soul before 
reason acts, and which precede the formal consent of 
the will. It is not doubtful, according to our system, 
whether these ought to be reckoned as sins : But 
which of us examines himself concerning them ? 
Who pays close attention to these motions, as sudden 
as the lightening, as perpetual as the ebbing and 
flowing of the sea, and, often, in as great number as 
the particles of dust in a tempestuous whirlwind r 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OP MAN. 159 

Who examines himself much, respecting sins of omis- 
sion ? To have neglected a duty, an opportunity of 
doing good, and other things of a similar nature ; 
does not quickly strike us, and although we thus be- 
come slothful servants — barren trees ; we are not 
sufficiently aware of it, and do not much reproach 
ourselves with our negligence and barrenness. At the 
same time, we shall never properly know ourselves, if 
we do not justice to our sins of omission, as well as to 
those of commission. 

Shall I here forget, my Brethren, how difficult it is 
to penetrate into all the hidden pretensions, the mo- 
tives, the secret views, which give rise to our actions 
in each particular ? For the most part, the interior, 
and real, principle which excites us, is almost un- 
known to ourselves. It remains wrapt up in thick 
darkness. The council chamber, in which the most 
important resolutions of the heart are formed, is in a 
secret place. It is also as difficult to separate, in each 
action, the good from the bad, as it is to perceive, that, 
in a piece of good money, there are some grains of 
base metal. Do we not find it difficult to ascertain 
in alms giving, whether we are actuated by the love 
of God, and true Christian charity ; or whether the 
love of praise doth not claim its share. Are the 
motions of servile fear always easy to be distinguished 
from those of filial fear ? And so of a variety of other 
things. 

The last thing, which is very difficult, is, to judge 
of the sincerity of our virtues, and to know precisely, 
whether they have acquired that degree of reality, 
and stability, which renders them pleasing to God * 
that predominant degree, although not absolutely per- 
fect, by which they are distinguished from human 
virtues, and even from those of an almost Christian. 



160 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN, 

Is, for instance, the love of God the consideration ? 
We may feel, without doubt, that we love him ; but 
to know whether we love him in that measure which 
Is necessary, with all our heart, and with all our 
strength, is not very easy If the question relate to 
repentance, we sensibly feel some sorrow for sin : 
But oh ! how difficult, in the midst of so many illu- 
sions^ into which we fall, to assure ourselves that our 
repentance hath all the sincerity, and influence, that 
it ought to have ! A striking proof that it is very 
difficult to assure ourselves of the goodness, and the 
validity, of those acts of the soul which are well in- 
tended; divines, therefore, are obliged to point out 
to us different characters, that we may know the soli- 
dity of each virtue. They write books, they lay down 
rules, for us ; they endeavor, in their preaching, to 
supply us with signs and means, to distinguish a true 
believer from a lukewarm professor; and the solid 
virtues of the one, from the imperfect virtues of the 
other, which, notwithstanding, appear sometimes io 
imitate them, and almost to copy after them. These 
rules are not always very clear, nor very precise ; the 
characters are, sometimes, too numerous, and not of 
easy application. Few people avail themselves of 
them, or even enter into these details ; and others, 
after much attention, still remain in uncertainty. I 
know there are some who either flatter themselves, 
that they know themselves sufficiently, or pretend 
that it is needless to trouble themselves before hand, 
and to be so scrupulous in ascertaining the degrees — 
the sincerity — the strength, of their virtues. But I 
know also, that there are many people who will say, 
" Lord, Lord/' whom Jesus Christ shall not acknow- 
ledge to be his. For instance ; many, who will pre- 
sent themselves to him, like the foolish virgins, who, 
believed themselves prepared, shall then find the 
door shut. Has not experience convinced us, in our 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OP MAN. 161 



late persecutions, that thousands upon thousands of 
persons, who flattered themselves that they had true 
faith, were found weak and unfaithful, in the day of 
temptation. So true is it that it is difficult for a man 
properly to know himself ! But let us not forget, my 
Brethren, that this difficulty ought not to lead any one 
to neglect self-examination : Much less, should it cast 
any one into a state of despondency, or excessive fear, 
and plunge him into despair. We sometimes meet 
with consciences, that are all extravagance, which are 
soon discouraged : But may not a man greatly dis- 
trust himself, and confide in the grace of God ? May 
he not ec work out his own salvation, with fear and 
" trembling ;" and pray fervently for the help of 
him " Who worketh in us both to will and to do of 
" his good pleasure ?" May we not recollect that the 
examination of ourselves, does not discover unto us 
every thing, but that we should fly, at the same time, 
to the merit of Christ, which covers our imperfec- 
tions; since it is by this merit, that we hope to be 
saved, and not by our own works ? May we not ac- 
knowledge that there is a difficulty in knowing our- 
selves ; and instead of being discouraged by it, should 
we not excite ourselves to acquire greater degrees of 
this knowledge ? 



CONCLUSION. 

Yes Christians, and it is with this that I shall be- 
gin the application of my discourse. If the heart of 
man is profound — concealed — difficult to penetrate; 
let us labor, and, Oh ! let us labor carefully, while it is 
still day, to disentangle the folds of our own hearts. 
It is a subject in which we are all much more 
concerned, than in any other which can occupy 



162 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OP MAN* 



us. Why should we ascend to the heavens ? Why 
should we descend into the deep, compass sea and 
land; investigate every thing*, let nothing pass in the 
world, without making it the object of our curiosity ; 
and, yet, not deign, not dare to investigate, to search, 
our own heart? Ah! " Physician heal thyself !" 
Phylosopher — politician — astronomer — man of sci- 
ence, whoever thou art; instead of measuring the 
heavens, measure the dimensions of thy heart : In- 
stead of the secrets of nature, search a little after those 
of the little world : Instead of state affairs, study, 
in the first place, what are the secrets and movements, 
of that little state which God hath established 
within thee, and of which he hath given thee, the go- 
vernment and direction. St. Augustine said much, 
when he occasionally uttered, in his prayers, only 
these two expressions : " Lord let me know thee ; 
c( and let me know myself." To know God, and to 
know ourselves, is religion in epitome — it is the whole 
of man. Do not then neglect this knowledge, Chris- 
tians ; content not yourselves with repeating that sen- 
tence, which the wise men of the world have so highly 
esteemed ; " Know thyself and, with them, ap- 
proving it ; but put it in practice. Men often see its 
necessity, for others only, they wish to make them 
understand, that they do not sufficiently know them- 
selves, they are angry, they are mortified, to see men 
vain, headstrong, full of themselves, admiring them- 
selves without ceasing, and wishing every one to ad- 
mire them: They endeavor to make them under ^ 
stand that they know not themselves, and send them 
back to themselves to be undeceived. Away, away 
with you, is their language, know yourselves better ; 
you who criticise others, do justice to yourselves ; 
you who set up yourselves above your equals, what 
do you imagine yourselves to be ? Look a little into 
yourselves, and your pride will fall. Christians, I 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 163 

require of you to day something more, not to recom- 
mend to others the labor of self-examination, but it is 
to each one of you, and to your own hearts, that I cry^ 

KNOW YOURSELVES. 

You will probably ask me, what must be done, in 
order to this? You will require me to point out the 
means of obtaining this knowledge, and of surmount- 
ing the difficulties which obstruct its way. J shall not 
here repeat to you all the rules, which might be laid 
down, for self-examination : But, above all things, 
acknowledging the truth of what has been said ; re- 
collect that you have, naturally, an aversion to know 
yourselves — that you are apt to fly from this know- 
ledge — that you have not hitherto sought after it 
with all sincerity, and that at least you have not yet 
probed yourselves to the bottom. Recollect that you 
have not improved the various means, and opportuni- 
ties, which you might happily have employed, for the 
purpose of better discovering your real inward state, 
Even in this, be sensible of your corruption — of the 
deceitfulness, and depth of your heart. At the same 
time, have recourse, seriously and sincerely, to the 
grace of God, and ask him to communicate to you this 
knowledge of yourselves. As in praying for grace, 
we ought also to labor, on our part ; and as our per- 
suasion, that the divine help is necessary, doth not su- 
persede our efforts and reflections ; seek, at the same 
time, all that may help you to acquire this knowledge. 

In order to this, my Brethren, first examine your- 
selves, in reference to the different states of prospe- 
rity and adversity, through which you may pass in 
this life. Adversity is the touch-stone of the heart. 
Hence afflictions are very properly called trials, and 
temptations, because they are calculated to discover 
what is within us. It was necessary for the saints 

m 2 



164 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



themselves., to pass through the crucible and furnace. 
This was requisite to purify the gold of their faith, 
to burn off the remains of earth, and the base mix- 
ture which it still contains. And they have confessed, 
that before temptation, they did not properly know 
themselves. The heart is often like those criminals, 
who must be closely questioned, before they are made 
to confess the truth. Consider then what you are in 
reality. " Do you kick against the pricks V* Do 
you murmur against Providence? Are you too sensi- 
ble to impressions — too impatient — i niti ated^ against 
second causes, which oppose your inclinations ? This 
is an evident sign of a bad heart. Are you submis- 
sive — humble? Do you turn your grief against 
yourselves — against your sins ? This is a sign of a 
heart in which grace operates. We may say of af- 
flictions, as well as of heresies, <c They must be, that 
xe those which are approved may be made manifest." 
Above all, persecution is a principal means of disco- 
vering to us our true state. It is like the sword that 
Solomon called for, in order to distinguish the true 
mother from the false, by dividing the child. The bad 
heart readily consents to the division. A man may 
give his mouth, and his exterior worship, to the false 
mother — to the false church ; while he gives his heart 
to the true mother — to the true religion. But the re- 
generate heart consents not to the division, it wishes 
to give the whole to God. What have you been in 
persecution ? Which side have you taken ? Which 
would you still take in a similar case ? 

Prosperity is not less useful, in order to the true 
knowledge of ourselves. It is often more dangerous 
than adversity. We may say of both, what wac said 
of Saul and David : " Saul hath slain his thousands, 
" and David his ten thousands :" Adversity hath 
slain its thousands, and prosperity its ten thousands. 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 165 

Witness what took place in the church after it be- 
came an establishment under Constantine the Great : 
And witness what has taken place among ourselves. 
Are we not, for the most part, less zealous — less de- 
vout — more worldly — more dissipated — more inte- 
rested — more divided amongst ourselves, than we were 
when oppressed by persecution ? Sin is a serpent, 
which grows stiff in the cold, but which is reani- 
mated by heat. See then the effects which ease and 
abundance produce upon you. You are corrupted 
by them. This is an evidence of a bad heart. But 
if they produce in you gratitude to God, and love 
to your neighbour, without making you high in 
your own esteem, or haughty towards others; it is a 
good sign. 

Examine yourselves, in the second place, by the 
general tenor of your conduct. Is it uniform — steady 
— constant, with regard to that which is good ? Or is 
it mixed — unequal — variable — inconstant ? " A dou- 
" ble minded man is unstable in all his ways." A 
good man hath some inequality, since he hath infir- 
mities, and is liable to fall. But, after all, in the 
ordinary course of his life, he maintains a certain 
uniformity on the side of virtue : Whether he be poor 
or rich, healthy or sick : Whether he transact busi- 
ness with his inferiors, his superiors, or his equals : 
Whether he be exposed to the eye of the public, or 
confined to his own house : I know not a much better 
character than such a one. But I greatly fear, that 
few persons find it in themselves ; and that, on the 
contrary, if we judge impartially, we shall only see, 
perpetually, upon the stage of life, very different per- 
sons : That they walk in an uneven way — that after 
having been a little tempted, they fall away, and that 
they prove false, in various ways. The bad heart be- 
trays itself in all its conflicts. Learn then to know it, 

m 3 



166 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 



by its different allurements, its extravagancies, and its 
perpetual returns to sin. 

I have observed, that we might profit by the example 
of others — the advice of our neighbour ; and that we 
find a thousand pretences to avoid this. I now invite 
you to behold yourselves, perpetually, in the actions of 
others, and take good heed to the judgment which is 
formed of them. Do not inspect the actions of your 
neighbour, in order to criticise him. Do not pry into 
his secret faults, in order to reproach him. But in 
things which present themselves to your view, and of 
which you cannot be ignorant, take example, revolve 
them in your minds, and make use of them. I do not 
invite you to set up for advisers to your brethren; this 
is a delicate point, and whilst we are guilty of the same 
foibles, it is with an ill grace, we presume, to correct 
others. We evidence, in this, one of the greatest 
possible proofs of the blindness that a man hath to 
himself. But when any one gives you advice, do not 
lose all the fruit of it, by reasons either good or bad, 
which you may pretend to have for mistrusting those 
who gave it. Always endeavor to be open to the truth, 
by whomsoever it is spoken, When the question is 
relative to the knowledge of ourselves, we ought to 
/avail ourselves of it, even from our enemies. 

Finally, that you may acquire this self-knowledge, 
I advise you, often, to compare what you think of your- 
selves, with what God may think of you. Set your 
knowledge and his against each other. Represent to 
yourselves, that penetrating eye which seeth all things. 
That " Eternal being ivho searcheth the heart, and 
<( tritth the reins, in order to give to eisery one ac- 
(( cording to his ways, and according to the fruit of 

his doing." Let us consider that it is in vain to 
attempt to shun this self-knowledge, since it is he who 



A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 167 

knoweth and judgeth us. This great God shall one 
day open our eyes, that we may see ourselves as we 
are seen of him. Our obstinate and voluntary blind- 
ness, shall, 'sooner or later, cease. This will perhaps 
be in the present age. God sometimes, in this life, 
enters into our hearts, opening the victim, and pene- 
trating "Even to the dividing asunder of the soul 
cc and spirit, and of the joints and marrow." This 
sometimes takes place at death, in which the terrified 
soul sees, at one glance, the conscience opened, and 
sin coming forth from its secret chambers. But, at 
least, it is always after death, that we see what we are. 
And oh what a sight ! It will fill us with horror and 
detestation of ourselves, and will make us miserable to 
all eternity ! Let us not wait till this time, my Bre- 
thren, but let us endeavor to know ourselves now, that 
we may have an opportunity to correct ourselves. 
When, by degrees, we shall have acquired this know- 
ledge, let it contribute to our humiliation — to our 
Godly sorrow; let it not excite us to flatter ourselves, 
even when others judge favorably of us. Alas! he 
who knoweth himself, as he ought, amuses not himself 
with the praises — the flatteries — the favorable opi- 
nions of other men. If these men, we should say to 
ourselves, knew me, as I know myself; how hateful 
and despicable would they find me ? At least, little 
deserving of their applause ! When we know our- 
selves, let us learn to bear with other men. They are 
blind ; we once were, and are still so, in many re- 
spects : They are sinners ; I was one, and am one now. 
Let not one sick man insult another. Oh ye ! who 
have already acquired, in some degree, the knowledge 
of yourselves ; let it excite you to watch — to pray — 
to be upon your guard against your evil heart ; cleave 
to the Lord by fervent prayer, that you may be con- 
firmed in all goodness, and that the inconstancy of 
your heart may be cured, and its rebellion prevented 



168 A PORTRAITURE OF THE HEART OF MAN. 

Finally, my Brethren,, we who have already ac- 
quired some sincerity of heart ; and some assurance, 
that grace hath begun to correct nature ; let us re- 
joice without pride; let us give thanks to the author 
of this change, and let our assurance console us, with- 
out making us remiss. Thus may we profit by the 
knowledge of the human heart, until ours shall be, 
wholly changed — conformed to the image of God, 
and prepared to enter into mansions of glory!— 
AMEN. 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 

SERMON VI. 

Luke, xxiv Chap. 50 and 5 1 Verses. 

(C And he led them out as far as to Bethany ; and 
he lifted up his hands, and blessed them. And 
it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was 
parted from them, and carried up into heaven:* 

My Brethren, 

Nothing is more common, than for the scrip- 
tures, and preachers of the gospel, to urge the pa- 
rallel between Moses and Jesus Christ, and to direct 
our attention to the comparison of the one with the 
other. There is some pleasure in remarking, the va- 
rious similarities, in their life, their ministry, their 
actions, and their miracles; and there is not less in 
observing* the difference observable in them, and the 
excellencies which raise the mediator of the new co- 
venant, above that of the old. " That Jesus is a 
(C prophet like unto Moses," is a comparison, which, 
in many respects, leaves between them a considerable 
difference. Great deficiencies on the side of Moses, 
but much greater fulness, grandeur, and perfection, 
on that of Christ. I know not, however, whether 



170 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST 



jou have ever attached to this consideration, what 
was similar, and what was different, in the final issue 
of their labors upon earth. The Hebrew legislator, 
before he left the Israelites, assembled them together, 
exhorted them on behalf of God, delivered to them 
various predictions ; and, having pronounced a great 
number of promises and threatenings, at the conclu- 
sion blessed them, and then ascended from the plains 
of Moab, to the mountain of Nebo; but he went up 
there alone, and ended his life, as well as his ministry. 
And above all, it must not be forgotten ; that God 
himself buried Moses, without permitting any of the 
Israelites, although they must have been acquainted 
with his death, to know precisely the place where his 
body was deposited. Hence, he could not, afterwards., 
become an object of hope to the Jews ; and his sepul- 
chre was undoubtedly concealed, that they might not 
make his bones, his ashes, or his tomb, an occasion of 
idolatry, or superstitious devotion. 

My Brethren, Jesus Christ, our head, and our 
great legislator, was not less concerned for. his disci- 
ples, when it was necessary to leave them, than Moses 
had been for his people : He instructed, he exhorted, 
his apostles, during forty days, ci He breathed upon 
fC them, that the?/ might receive the Holy Ghost/' 
and before he retired from them, ic He blessed them' 3 
He went up from Jerusalem to the Mount of Olives, 
but he went not there alone, he took with him all his 
beloved confidents, that they might be the spectators 
of his glorious exaltation. Here our mediator differs, 
materially, from that of the ancient economy. He re- 
pairs to the mountain, not to become the prey of 
death and the grave, but that he may ascend to hea- 
ven ; " Where he ever liveth." It is there that he 
continues the functions of his ministry, which will be 
eternal, and which will infallibly conduct us to life and 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 171 

happiness. It is in heaven we should seek him, being 
assured of finding' him there, and with him, our life 
hidden in God. We cannot say of him, as the Jews 
said of Moses, ce We know not zohat is become of 
ff him;" or as Mary, on another occasion, weeping 
over the tomb of the Saviour, ff They have taken 
ce away my Lord, and I know not where they have 
<c laid him" We cannot be ignorant that our Jesus 
is * At the light hand of God, the father." There 
he hath been lifted up, to draw our hearts after him, 
and to be the eternal object of our confidence and 
adoration. His apostles, who were the spectators of 
his ascension, are the witnesses of it to us. Let us 
recite faithfully, what they have delivered to us, in a 
few words, concerning the greatest of wonders. This 
day calls us to it; and our text corresponds, perfectly, 
to the design. cc And he led them out" saith St. 
Luke, " As far as Bethany; and he lifted up his 
" hands, and blessed them. And it came to pass, 
ci while he blessed them, he was parted from them, 
(C and carried up into heaven." 

Two things, my Brethren, are here presented for 
our examination : The circumstances which pre- 
ceeded the ascension of Jesus Christ ; and the ascen- 
sion itself. The circumstances are the care which 
Jesus Christ took to lead his disciples after him ; the 
place to which he led them ; and what he did. The 
whole of which is included in these words. cc And he 
(C led them out as far as to Bethany ; and he lifted 
" up his hands and blessed them ;" this will form 
the subject of our first part. The ascension of the 
Lord is expressed in these terms : ec And it came to 
"pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from 
ce them, and carried up into heaven." This shall be 
the subject of our second part. God grant that we 
may not be cold and indifferent spectators of this 



172 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



wonderful miracle ! A miracle in which we are so 
deeply interested ! God grant that this day may not 
leave our hearts attached to the earth ; but that we 
may turn our thoughts towards that heaven into which 
Jesus is ascended ! that we may be enabled to follow 
him there, by our desires and holy affections, and with 
the expectation that we shall one day follow him to 
the enjoyment of the same glory. AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 



MY Brethren, it was time that heaven should re- 
take what it had lent to the earth. It was time that 
Jesus should finish the days of his pilgrimage here 
below. He had finished the work that his father had 
given him to do. Behold, then, here he is preparing 
for his departure, and assembling his friends together ! 
cc And he led them out as far as to Bethany" saith 
the evangelist : that is to say, after having instructed 
them in divers mysteries, concerning his kingdom ; 
after he had confirmed his resurrection, by associating 
with them for the space of forty days ; after having 
given them the promise of the Holy Spirit, and an 
express order to wait for the effusion of it at Jeru- 
salem, he took them all with him, to make them wit- 
nesses of his ascension to heaven. 

But why did he lead them out with him ? Why did 
he wish them to be present at his ascension ? We 
may say, my Brethren, in the first place, that it was 
to perfect — to establish — to settle their souls, apd to 
heal, upon the Mount of Olives, all the wounds which 
Calvary had inflicted upon them. I know that the 
resurrection had, already, restored the faith of his 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 173 



disciples ; but nothing could so fully accomplish its 
confirmation, and render it immovable, as the sight 
©f the glorification of their Saviour. He had, before, 
conducted them to this same mountain, that they 
might see him enter upon his passion. He then said 
unto them, " All ye shall be offended because of me 
" this night ; for it is written, I will smite the shep- 
te herd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered 
" abroad." It was just that he should, likewise, for 
their complete consolation, lead them with him, in a 
day, calculated to disperse all the darkness of that 
night. Jesus Christ is not like the men of the world, 
who, elevated to great fortune, and to a high state of 
grandeur, generally forget those who were before with 
them, in a low estate ; nor, like the chief butler, who, 
in his prosperity, forgot Joseph, his companion in irons. 
But Jesus would every where be inseparable from his 
dear disciples, in his glory, as well as in his sufferings. 

The second reason. Jesus Christ conducted his 
disciples to the exhibition of his ascension, not only 
to confirm their faith, but to refine it, and to perfect 
their knowledge. A few moments of sight, would 
be, to them, equal in value to many years of instruc- 
tion. They go to be convinced, by their own senses, 
that Jesus is truly the Son of God, " descended from 
<( heaven, who is ascended where he zvas before." 
They go, fully, to know that he is the true mediator, 
" Who having by himself purged our sins — entered 
ec into the celestial sanctuary to appear in the pre- 
tc sence of God for us." Above all, they go to get 
rid of their ancient prejudices, relative to a temporal 
kingdom : Christ's ascension into heaven, takes away 
from them this idol of the Jews, this pretence to a 
carnal and worldly empire: He carries away their 
hearts with him, and wholly raises their expec- 
tations, 



174 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



The third general reason. It was necessary that 
the apostles should be present, at the ascension of our 
Saviour, to qualify them to announce this last mystery, 
as well as that of the resurrection, with perfect cer- 
tainty, as eye witnesses ; and that we might not have 
the least room to doubt their testimony. Ought not 
those who were to be the ministers of Jesus Christ, for 
the conversion of the people, to be first fully per- 
suaded of his glory ? But, after their own eyes have 
seen their master ascend into heaven ; is it possible 
that they can remain in doubt ? And, henceforth, fully 
persuaded ; what difficulties shall be able to restrain 
them ? What will they not accomplish under such a 
chief; and what will they not expect from his care 
and protection? Do you imagine, believers, that 
whenever perils — nakedness — famine — and death, 
should be presented to the eyes of the apostles, that 
they would not immediately oppose to them the re- 
membrance of the Mount of Olives; and of Jesus 
ascended to glory ? And as to ourselves, my Brethren, 
what can we wish more, to enable us to believe this 
miracle, than so great a number of witnesses ? Enoch 
was taken up to heaven ; the scripture declares it ; 
this is sufficient, and the J ews believe it ; although not 
a single spectator is mentioned as the witness of his 
translation. When Elijah was carried away in a cha- 
riot of fire, Elisha only was present, the other disciples 
of this prophet, were assured of what had happened to 
him, only by the report that Elisha brought them: 
Nevertheless, the Israelites had no doubt of it. Why, 
then, will not the incredulous Jews, when eleven per- 
sons, at least, were present, believe the glorious ascen- 
sion of the Son of God? These are faithful witnesses, 
men inspired; men who, themselves, wrought many 
miracles. Have we any reason to doubt the truth of 
what they attested? Ci Ah ! this is not a cunningly 
(( devised fable but it is what they saw with their 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 175 



own eyes. It is not a fable, like that which asserts that 
Romulus was transported into heaven, and numbered 
with the Gods: A fable which ancient Rome readily 
believed^ upon the testimony of an individual, Proculus; 
who spoke, only, to deceive the people, and to prevent 
a sedition; which caused Tertullion to say, that Ro- 
mulus had ascended to heaven, by a ladder of lies. 
But it is a miracle, confirmed by faithful witnesses, 
and by a thousand glorious effects. It was, therefore, 
my Brethren, in order to leave us a testimony, so cre- 
dible, and undeniable, that Jesus Christ would have 
all his disciples to be witnesses of his glorification. 

We may here ask another question. Why did 
Jesus Christ " Lead them out," as St. Luke speaketh, 
that is to say, out of Jerusalem ? Could he not have 
ascended to heaven, from the midst of this city, in the 
sight of a multitude of people, that this miracle might 
have excited their admiration, and forced them to be- 
lieve in him ? Why did he not choose the temple 
itself, for the theatre of his ascension ? Why not 
cleave the arched roofs, in order to elevate himself to 
the clouds ? Or why did he not cause a chariot of fire 
to descend, like that of Elijah, and take him away, in 
the presence of the Jews, and chief priests, all asto- 
nished and confounded ? Then, we should have seen 
their enmity fall at his feet, and themselves delivering 
up their arms to him. Why, unbelief may yet say, 
seek the retreat of a mountain? Why hide his glory 
.in secrecy, and take for its witnesses only a small 
number of men attached to him ? I answer, my Bre- 
thren, that there were a sufficient number of wit- 
nesses to declare the truth of what, most assuredly, 
took place ; that they were competent to announce it 
to the world, which was all that Jesus Wished. Many 
things also, freed these witnesses from all suspicion. 
If therefore the Lord did not enter into these view?, 



176 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



to confound all his enemies, by an open triumph ; we 
may conclude that it was for wise reasons. He in- 
tended that his miracles should be certain, but that 
they should, nevertheless, be mysteries, things difficult 
to be credited, which should give place to faith; 
having-, in other respects, seen it proper, that the 
alterations, in the world, should be made by degrees. 
When infidelity requires that all the miracles of our 
Saviour; among others, his resursection and ascension, 
should have been public, in the sight of every one, it 
does not enter into the views of God ; it supposes, 
that God must have designed to force from all men 
their consent — to extort from them their belief, in 
spite of their malice and obstinacy, and to save them 
all, whether teachable or un teachable. But this was 
not the design of an allwise Being. He took care, 
that there should be sufficient certainty to persuade, 
sufficient light to enlighten, sufficient proof to influ- 
ence reasonable, and well disposed, men ; but he was 
unwilling that there should be enough to compel the 
most malicious, and to leave no distinction between 
men, nor any value to faith. 

We may add, that even supposing Jesus Christ had 
ascended in the sight of all Jerusalem, malicious un- 
belief might not have been left without excuse. Were 
all those converted who had seen, with their own 
eyes, the miracles of Jesus Christ; and those, for in- 
stance, who had been witnesses of the resurrection of 
Lazarus; were they all converted by it? And al- 
though a hundred thousand witnesses, among the 
Jews, had seen, and afterwards related, what came 
to pass, and that which the apostles said ; what would 
this have effected for the Greek — for the Roman— 
for the other Jews — for us? The Greek and the Ro- 
man might still have said, we wish we also had seen 
him — we have not been witnesses. It would still have 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST, 177 



been, entirely, upon the witness of others, that the 
following ages, or the people afar off, must have de- 
pended; the difficulty would still have existed among 
those who were inclined to doubt, 

Jesus Christ then conducted his disciples out of 
Jerusalem, contenting himself to have, for the wit- 
nesses of his ascension, his dear disciples, who were 
worthy of it; and not that ungrateful city, which 
had expelled him as an evil doer. And he led them 
to a little distance from this city, that without clamour, 
with freedom, in an elevated place • where their view 
was not impeded, they might with more ease, con- 
template this great miracle, " He led them out as 
" far as to Bethany ;" that is to say, to that part of 
the Mount of Olives, which was called " Bethany," 
and not into the village itself, so called, which was 
the residence of Lazarus, and his sisters. Finally, it 
is remarked in St. John, that this village was from Je- 
rusalem about "Jif teen furlongs," that is to say, about 
three quarters of an hour's walk ; whereas, St. Luke ob- 
serves, expressly, in the first of Acts, that the place, from 
whence the apostles returned, after the ascension of 
our Lord, was only distant from the city " A sabbath 
(< days journey " which was about half as far as to 
the village of Bethany, that is to say, about seven or 
eight furlongs only. See, how clearly we are enable^ 
to distinguish these things ! The first beginning 
of the Mount of Olives, was but five furlongs, or about 
a quarter of an hour's walk, from Jerusalem. Jesus 
Christ went up two or three furlongs farther, towards 
the summit of the mountain. The space which ex- 
tended from the foot of this mountain to Jerusalem, 
was called cs Bethphage " and that which extended 
the other way, towards Bethany, was known by the 
name of that village. It was therefore a little farther 
than Bethphage, the place where the Mount of Olives 



178 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



began to be called " Bethany," seven or eight fur- 
longs from Jerusalem, to which Jesus led his disci- 
ples. 

The circumstances, connected with this place, are, 
undoubtedly^ something remarkable. It was the 
Mount of Olives ; as is remarked in the Acts of the 
Apostles ; consequently, it was the same place where 
Jesus had begun to enter upon his passion, and where 
he had been betrayed and taken. We cannot doubt, 
that Gethsemane was in the same place, or contigu- 
ous to it. Thus, one and the same place, saw him go 
forth both to the combat, and the triumph ; to the 
cross, and to glory. It appears, then*, that Jesus 
Christ wished to impress the minds of his disciples, 
by the circumstances of this place. But the act of 
his taking leave, is still more memorable. C( And he 
" lifted up his hands and blessed them" The lift- 
ing up of hands was used in prayer, to set forth the 
elevation of the desires towards God. This act of 
Jesus Christ, therefore, shews us " That he prayed" 
in order to recommend his disciples to his Father, 
before he left them, as he had done before he went 
to suffer, in that excellent prayer, which is left upon 
record, in the seventeenth of St. John; and this act 
teaches us, at the same time, that the true way to 
bring down blessings from heaven, upon us and ours, 
is that of prayer. (< Christ blessed his disciples ;" 
this was the last of his acts upon earth ; it must, 
therefore, be something important. We find, in the 
scriptures, three sorts of blessings among men ; which 
may throw some light upon our subject. The first is 
the blessing of a simple wish, which is the most com- 
mon. Men, naturally limited and feeble, have scarce- 
ly any thing to bestow but good wishes; they can 
hardly give any thing but their promises, of which, 
for the most part, they are not very sparing. Their 



i 



I 



TUB ASCENSION OP JESUS CHRIST. 179 

blessings in this particular, consist of prayers, which 
they mutually offer, that the -Almighty will deign to 
preserve— to fill with grace — with joy and happiness; 
the persons whom they bless. This is, principally, 
the ordinary form of taking kave. The blessing of 
Jesus Christ, in this place, is undoubtedly a blessing 
of desire, and taking leave; since he was about to 
separate himself from his apostles. But there is much 
more; if he wished as man, he commanded, at the 
same time, as God. To wish well and to do well, 
are two very different things, and between whieh 
there is a great difference amongst mortals : but with 
God, to wish and to give, is one and the same thing. 
God speaketh and the effect follows : fi God said let 
" theme he light V It is done ! When he blesseth, 
blessings rush upon us in a throng. We may here 
say the same ; the blessing of J esus Christ is an ope- 
rative one. When he blesses the loaves, he multi- 
plies them, and here he produces that which he wishes. 
This farewell is not then one of that useless charac- 
ter in which, all that is mutually given, often coasists 
only of tears and sighs ; it is one of the farewells of a 
great Prince, to his favorite subjects, in which he is 
pleased to leave them magnificent tokens of his libe- 
rality, and rich marks of his love. Who can recount 
all the riches, that the apostles received, by virtue ©f 
this benediction, and which descended upon them 
from Jesus Christ, " Like the ointment of the high 
<( priest, which ran from his head down to the skirts 
* c af his garments ?" It was in consequence, and as 
an effect, of this benediction, that they received the 
Holy Ghost, and all the gifts of heaven, both ordinary 
and extraordinary. 

The second kind of blessings, which we find in 
the scriptures, and in use among men, are paternal 
blessings ; which include, besides the wish, an act ©f 

n 2 



180 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



approbation, and authority. Fathers then represent, 
in some sense, the Deity. Thus, almost all the bles- 
sings of the patriarchs were prophetical ; because, in 
effect, the Spirit of God inspired them. The blessing 
of Jesus Christ, may be very properly called a pater- 
nal blessing, effectively prophectical — sacred — infalli- 
ble, in its effects. Behold a father ! the best, and 
most tender, of all fathers, who evidences to his chil- 
dren, in leaving them, that he pardons their weak- 
nesses, and that he is satisfied with their affection. 
Represent to yourselves the joy of the disciples, in 
receiving this blessing, of approbation, at the hands 
of him, " Wlio had begotten them to God." By 
this, Peter felt himself reinstated in his apostleship ; 
here, Thomas saw his unbelief forgiven; all felt 
their timidity dispersed — their courage re-established 
—their hearts filled with consolation, and zeal. They 
were prepared for every thing, with the blessing of 
their Master ; and now they are able to say, (( If it 
" be needful for us to go to prison, and to death, 
"for thy sake, behold, we are ready 1" 

The third kind of blessings which are found, in 
the scriptures, are blessings of command, which are 
given with authority, by a power, received from God, 
to bless in his name, and in his stead. Thus Moses 
blessed the people in the character of their leader, 
and mediator. Kings also, sometimes, gave their 
blessing to their subjects: The priests, above all, 
had an express command to bless the Israelites, as it 
is recorded in the sixth of Numbers. But, how 
much more excellent, than all others, is the blessing 
here given by the true king, the true prophet, and 
the great high priest, of the new covenant? Solomon 
blessed Israel, after the dedication of the temple. 
Jesus Christ hath sanctified his church with his own 
blood ; he consecrated it, to be a holy temple unto 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 181 

the Lord, while he blessed it. Melchizedec, the type, 
both a king and a priest, blessed Abraham, and, inhrs 
person, all the patriarchs. Jesus Christ, the king of 
peace and righteousness, blessed his apostles, and, in 
their persons, the whole church. Blessing is a sa- 
cerdotal act ; Jesus Christ exercised it, beginning, 
on earth, that which he continues in heaven, where 
his perpetual office, is to intercede for his church, 
and to bless it. By the benediction which he gave 
his disciples, he evidenced that he is (C The seed in 
" which all the nations of the earth should be bles- 
" sed." We may then cry out, to day, ec Blessed 
" be God, who hath blessed us with all spiritual 
" blessings in Christ Jesus/* Blessed be the eter- 
nal Son, who hath blessed us, on behalf of the father, 
and who is gone to sit down at his right hand ; V For 
fl it came to pass/* St. Luke tells us, c< while he 
" blessed them, he was parted from them, and car- 
" ried up into heaven." This will form the second 
part of our subject. 



SECOND PART. 

My Brethren, Jesus Christ, and God the father, 
finished their two great works by blessing. The 
father, after having finished the creation, blessed all 
his works ; and it is this efficacious blessing which 
sustains, and preserves, them ; and which causes the 
plant of all things living, if I may so speak, to in- 
crease and multiply. But we may say, after this 
blessing, that God rested from his works; he hath 
ceased to employ himself in making new beings, and 
he appears to act Only by the intervention of second 
causes, Behold the Son ; who, after having accom- 

N 3 



182 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



plished the work of redemption, no less marvellous 
than the other, blesses the work of his bands, ct Sinc6 
u all he hud m&de was good!" And this blessing 
shall be a vivifying principle, which will work till time 
shall be no more. But, at the same time, he goes 
away in order to give place to an invisible agent, this 
Holy Ghost, who shall come to give life to all meta>; 
and by whom he will govern the church, without 
quitting the heavens, into which he hath entered. 
God, in the creation, blessed man in particular, say- 
ing, " Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the 
w eaHh and the restorer of the human race, after 
the new creation, came to bless the new men, his 
apostles : Was it not that they might be fruitful, 
and multiply, by a holy and spiritual posterity ? Go 
forth, therefore, fathers of the faithful! By virtue 
of this blessing, you shall re-people the earth with 
children for Jesus Christ, while he himself is gone to 
fill the heavens with his glory. 

Christians! it is a blessed sight, to see a father, 
dying in the favor of God, with a number of his 
children about his bed, among whom he divides his 
blessing ! What a delightful spectacle does Jacob 
present to us; when, in his dying moments, he thus 
blesses the patriarchs ! " When he had made an 
<{ end," saith Moses, " he yielded up the ghost, and 
" was gathered unto his people." But behold, here, 
a greater than Israel ! Jesus, the true conqueror, 
wrestling with God, who in blessing, withdraws him- 
self. He retires to his father, to the everlasting 
God ; he dieth not; he takes the direct way to hea- 
ven ; he goes to begin his life of glory. Behold the 
happy end of his pilgrimage ! Believers, you will 
find here something to imitate, and to wish for; 
what you should imitate, is to finish your course, 
like the Saviour, by blessing those who appertain to 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 183 



you; what you should wish for, is to go, as he did, 
from this world to the father, after you have blessed 
them. 

St. Luke informs us, in two words, of that which 
the orators of the present age, would have endea- 
vored to relate with much pomp, and a multitude 
of words. " Jesus was parted from his disciples, 
" and carried up into heaven." This is all the de- 
scription he here gives us, of so stupendous a mira- 
cle. It appears, at first, that this expression, " He 
" was parted from them," has something sorrowful 
in it, and the idea, of being at a great distance from 
the Saviour, must naturally be afflicting. The first 
news, which the apostles received of it, exceedingly 
troubled them. " But nozv I go my way to him that 
" sent me," he had said to them, in the 16th. chap, 
of St. John ; "And none of you asketh me, whither 
" goest thou f" They had not the courage to do it ; 
their mouths w T ere shut with grief ; he therefore adds, 
(c Because 1 have said these things unto you, sorrow 
" hath filled your heart" And what would they 
now feel, when he really takes himself away? Para- 
dise is about to recover a treasure ; but it is taken 
away from the church. What shall the spouse do, 
bereaved of the bridegroom ? What shall the children 
do, deprived of their father? My Brethren, J esus Christ 
is gone away, it is true, but we have no reason to 
cry after him, " My father, my father," as if he 
had left us orphans, and without consolation. He 
did not simply leave, like Elijah, his mantle, to his 
apostles ; he left them his blessing, which includes all 
sorts of spiritual treasures. Christ ascends to heaven, 
but he shall send his spirit in his place; and he had 
sufficiently convinced his disciples, that it was neces- 
sary for him to go away. Console yourselves, disci- 
pics oi the Lord ! he who hath retired from you, with 



184 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



regard to his visible and corporeal presence, shall be 
with you always, even to the end of the world ; by the 
salutary presence of his grace, by that of his protec- 
tion ; and by the ministry of his word and sacraments. 

These words, " He w ms parted from them/' point 
out to us three things. First, that Jesus Christ really 
went away from his disciples <c As touching his hu- 
" inanity :" It was not a departure in appearance 
only. Away, then, with all those who have made a 
phantom — an illusion — a fable, of the Christian reli- 
gion ; whether in all or in only some of its articles. 
Jesus Christ was truly bom— really lived— died 
^rose again— ascended into heaven. There is no- 
thing figurative, or metaphorical, in these articles ; 
they are to be understood literally. The question, in 
our text, is neither of a vision nor an extacy, but of a 
local removal of the body of Jesus Christ, a real ex- 
altation of the man Christ from earth to heaven. 
Jesus Christ, as man, hath retired, he hath actually 
quitted the earth ; he hath so changed the place, that 
he is no longer here below, with respect to his hu- 
manity : The heavens must receive him till the time 
of the restitution of all things. The heresy of the 
Roman Catholics, in vain, searches for him upon the 
earth, and falsely places his humanity, in a visible 
manner, upon their altars. In vain do they distin- 
guish between the visible and invisible presence : All 
this is exploded by the real reception of Jesus Christ 
into heaven, where he must continue till the end of 
all thing's. 

Secondly, my Brethren, the words in our text, 
" He was parted from them," point out, that this was 
a voluntary departure on the part of Jesus Christ, 
and not a forced separation. Certainly, these words 
discover to us. that the exaltation of the Saviour was 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 185 

caused by his own power, and by his will, in concert 
with that of the Father. Filially, you know that by 
heaven, into which Jesus Christ ascended, we are to 
understand the highest heaven, the heaven of the 
blessed : For the scripture tells us, fC That he hath 
" passed through the heavens — that he was exalted 
"far above the heavens." Far from us be the ex- 
travagancies of some ancient heretics, who believed 
that the ascension of Jesus Christ had reference only 
to his soul, but that his body was dissolved, and that 
it returned to that celestial matter of which it was 
formed. Far from us be the impudent reveries of the 
Manichees, who asserted, that Christ had cast his body 
into the sun. Christ is truly man, his flesh is indis* 
solubly united to his divinity; for the disciples not 
only saw him carried up in a cloud, but two angels, 
ordinary inhabitants of paradise, descended and came 
to inform us of his arrival at the highest heavens> 

I do not think it my duty, at this time, to insist 
upon the circumstances of the ascension, which are 
not in my text. I beseech you only to take notice 
that the truth of this exaltation of the Lord Jesus, 
hath been fully confirmed by all the effects which 
followed it. I mean, in the first place, by the effusion 
of the Holy Spirit on the day of Penticost. Second- 
ly, by the miracles which the apostles wrought in the 
Saviour's name; in the third place, by the stedfastness, 
and the uniformity, which all the apostles of Christ 
discovered in their preaching. Finally, my Brethren, 
to dwell alittlemoreupon the testimony of theapostles; 
is it to be supposed, that simple men, such as were the 
first heralds of Christianity, would have dared to under- 
take to confront the Sanhedrim — to expose them- 
selves to the hatred of the whole nation — to convert 
the Gentiles — to pull down idolatry — to encounter 
all kinds of obstacles, having only shame, poverty, 



186 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 



misery, and death, for the fruit of their undertaking ; 
if they had not been convinced, that what they said of 
Jesus was true, and that he was in the heavens ? After 
the death of Socrates, we do not see that his friends 
-'—his disciples — a Plato — a Cebes — a Criton — a Si- 
taias, ever dared to censure the Athenians — to enter 
into the Areopagus to accuse them of the murder of 
their master ; much less to certify that he had ascend- 
ed to heaven- — that they must adore him, and that 
the whole universe must pay him homage. His was 
a death, in whatever esteem the people held him, 
which could neither defend, nor recompense, any one> 
and which could contribute nothing effectual to his 
repose or fortune. But Jesus, being in the heavens, 
Lord of the universe, and appointed to be its judge ; I 
am not surprised, that his disciples were ready to do 
all things for him. And what they have done, evi- 
dently proves the force of their persuasion, and the 
sincerity of their testimony. 

But without detaining you any longer, upon the 
truth of his ascension, let us say something upon the 
necessity of it. It was necessary, in the first place, 
as it respects Jesus Christ himself. He said to his 
disciples in the fourteenth of St. John, If ye loved 
% me, ye would rejoice, became I said I go unto the 
"father." If we love him, we shall love his glory, 
and we shall rejoice to see him enter upon it, since 
his separation from us, exalteth him above all things. 
If St. Paul said of the faithful, " That the world was 
" not worthy of them," how much less is it worthy of 
the Son of God ? Heaven alone is worthy to possess 
him — it is his centre. He was compelled to leave it 
by the violence of his amazing love. It was needful 
that he should now return to it, since he was free, 
and had accomplished the work he had to do. What 
from henceforth shall retain the immortal in the re- 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 187 

gions of death, aitd the incorruptible in the midst of 
corruption ? " To every thing there is a place suited 
H" to its nature." To the first man, who was earthy* 
God gave, for his dwelling*, the garden of Eden. To 
the second Adam> the heavenly man, heaven was the 
only place that could suit him, and it is there, that he 
is gone to make himself known, as the king of glory, 
amidst the acclamations of angels. It is true that, 
as God he possessed from all eternity, the sovereignty, 
over all things ; but, as mediator, as man, he had not< 
yet entered into his kingdom. This is therefore what 
he now did, " He was carried up into heaven." 

Secondly, if the dignity of his person required this 
exaltation, the merits of his sufferings and humiliation, 
also required it, "He made himself of no reputation—*- 
" and became obedient unto death, even the death of 
"the cross. Wherefore God hath highly exalted 
" him" As he came down from heaven, so he has 
been exalted to heaven. The justice of God hath 
established a necessary connection, between perfect 
virtue, and true happiness— between obedience, and 
the reward of it. It was necessary, then, that Jesus 
Christ, after having evidenced an obedience, and per- 
fect holiness, as mediator, should receive at the hands 
of his father, a recompense proportionate to it. It was 
necessary that God " Shoidd crown with glory and 
"honor, him, whom we have seen, for a short time, 
" made a little lower than the angels for the suffer- 
" ing of death." 

The third reason for the necessity of the ascension 
of the Saviour, is, that he might be able to fulfil all the 
functions of his offices upon earth. This he could 
only accomplish in the heavens, and in a state of glory. 
He was to call the Gentiles, as well as the Jews ; but 
that the Gentiles might be effectually called to the 



188 tHE ASCEiNfSION OF JEStFS CttRiS'f. 

faith, it was necessary to preach, to them, not only 
Jesus Christ abased f this alone would have entirely 
discouraged them 3 but it was needful to preach to 
them Jesus Christ exalted. But he could not be at 
the same time exalted and dwell upon earth : It was 
necessary that he should ascend into heaven, to send 
forth his apostles into all the world, as his ambassa- 
dors. It was requisite that he should render the 
preaching of the gospel efficacious by the gift of his 
holy spirit, the treasures of which were in heaven; it 
was needful that he should ascend there himself, to 
open the treasures, and send them forth. " If I go 
"not away," saith he, "the comforter will not come 
u unto you ; but if I depart I will send him unto 
"you!' Moreover as a priest, it was necessary that 
he should ascend to heaven, to present to God his 
father, the efficacy of his sacra fice, and to fulfil the 
type of the high priest entering into the holy of holies. 
His priesthood was to be eternal, he must therefore 
have a celestial sanctuary, not made with hands, which 
must subsist for ever. It was necessary that he should 
enter into it to intercede, for us, before the face of 
God : " For if he were on earth, he should not be a 
"priest,' as St. Paul saith. 

We may say, in the fourth place, that the ascension 
of Jesus Christ was necessary, with respect to us : it 
was so, in order to confirm our faith, our hope, and 
our consolation. Moreover, in order to assure us, in 
an unquestionable manner, of the truth of the pro- 
mises of the gospel, it was necessary to enable us to 
see the first fruit of the merits of Jesus Christ, in his 
own person ; and to shew us, in glory, that he had 
received of the father, the celestial seal of the divinity 
of his doctrine. What St. Paul saith of the resurrec- 
tion of the Lord, namely, that, " If he be not raised 
" our faith is vain" he might say of all the other 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 189 

degrees of his glory. If our great Saviour had not 
ascended into heaven, our faith had been vain, without 
efficacy, and ill founded; since we needed an invisible 
protector to defend us against our enemies, a power- 
ful intercessor with God ; a king, infinitely glorious 
to render us eternally happy : But without his exal- 
tation we should have had none of these things. 

We may add, that, if the ascension of our Saviour 
was necessary, to confirm our faith, it was also equally 
so, to ennoble, purify, and elevate, our hearts, and 
our affections. Those of Rome, who so greatly loved 
carnal worship, and the corporeal presence of Jesus 
Christ, would have been perhaps accommodated, for 
the most part, by his continuance upon earth : But it 
is because they do not sufficiently know the nature of 
the Christian religion, which requires of us a worship 
spiritual — internal — free from sense — sublime — ele- 
vated to God. But it is certain, that, had he remained 
in a familiar intercourse with men, it would have been 
hardly possible, that there should not have been, in 
their faith and worship, something gross and terres- 
trial. Would not our love have been mixed with 
human sentiments of an adorable object set up in a 
certain place ; an object that our eyes could see ? 
Would not the acts of our faith have been confounded 
with those of sense, and would not our humble and 
profound adorations have been interrupted, by the 
familiar intercourse that we might have had with 
him ? Had he remained upon the earth till the last 
day, which of us should have been willing to die? 
Or, in the necessary act of dying, who would not 
have regretted being separated from so good a master, 
perhaps for many ages ? Is it not far better that he 
should ascend into heaven, to prepare a place for us ; 
and being assured that we shall shortly rejoin him, 
that we might detach ourselves from the earth to be 



190 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 

speedily, where he is seated at the right hand of 
God? 

Let us then rejoice, my Brethren, in this great day, 
on which angels cried ;■ S( Worthy is the Lamb that 

was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wis- 
tc dom, and strength, and honor, and gtory, and 
" blessing." On that day, in which the father saw 
returned to him, not a prodigal son, but a son obe- 
dient unto death, who had recovered the rights of his 
father, and increased his inheritance. David saw this 
da}, and rejoiced in it, when he sang, in the 68th. 
Psalm ; (< Tftou hast ascended up on high, thou hast 
w led captivity captive, thou hast received gifts for 

men and he adds, C( Blessed be the Lord who 
»< daily loadeth us loith his benefits.'* Let us echo 
fcaek this voice ; blessed be the Lord, and let us ad- 
mire the glory of his triumph! Of public exhibitions, 
it was confident!) believed, that, there were never any 
more grand than the triumphs of the ancient Romans. 
But I may very properly ask; what were these tri- 
umphs in comparison with that of the Governor of the 
world; with his, who is the King of kings and Lord of 
lords. His chariot in the air was formed of the 
clouds ; a chariot a thousand times more magnifi- 
cent and extraordinary, than those of all worldly con- 
querors ! There was not here, as in the triumphs of 
the ancients, a voice crying to the hero, " Remember 
ic death" All is spoken of the glory, and immor- 
tality, of our living Head. He did not acquire his 
glory at our expence ; it did not cost us our blood ; 
it was not attended with the loss of sons and of hus- 
bands, as with the ancient heroes, whose victories 
were often dearly purchased by those for whom they 
conquered. What captives had he in chains, but 
devils, and all the infernal powers ! What spoils, but 
errors and vices overcome ! What military guards, 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 191 

but those of angels ! What capitol, but the sanctuary 
@f heaven! 



CONCLUSION. 

But i shall now conclude, my Brethren. It is not 
necessary that our joy should be merely, a joy of ad- 
miration, such as we naturally feel, at the sight of 
grand objects. We should endeavor to derive other 
uses from what we have said. Let us endeavor to 
render this festival profitable, and our text truly use- 
ful, in more respects than one. In the first place, 
Christians, if you have seen Jesus Christ blessing his 
disciples ; have you not wished to partake of his bles- 
sing ? Imagine not that he, who is the Lord, is like 
the patriarch Isaac, who had only one blessing to 
give, and that the apostles have taken it away, and 
prevented our partaking of it. We have no need to 
say to him, as Esau to his father ; cc Hast thou but 
" one blessing, my father ?" He hath resources of 
grace which shall never be exhausted — treasures, 
which he incessantly sheds forth, without diminishing 
them ! There are many blessings, as well as many 
mansions, in the house of our heavenly father. The 
apostles have had the first part; let us not be jealous 
of them, we have a portion of the very same blessings 
which they received ; they have flowed down even 
unto us ; and Jesus Christ, after havi g received 
the plenitude of the gifts of God, (( and grace upon 
** grace," to shed forth upon his mystical body, 
pours them out every day! And we, even we, also, 
Lord, shall have part in thy blessing ! 



My Brethren, you know that the great design of 



192 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST 



the ascension of the Lord, is to raise our hearts, and 
draw them towards heaven. " Seek/' saith St. Pan], 
" Those things which are above, where Christ 
tc sitteth at the right hand of God" Christ saith to 
us, as aforetime to his apostles, £C Whither I go ye 
" know, and the way ye know — J will that inhere I 
" am ye may be also ; follow me." He speaks to 
you, to see if you will follow him, and we may here 
ask you the same question, that was before put 
to Rebekah. Abraham had sent <e The eldest of his 
fC servants, that ruled over all that he had" to seek 
a wife for his son Isaac. This faithful messenger 
having recognized, by divers marks, that Rebekah 
was the woman that God had appointed for his master, 
and having obtained her of her parents, he would 
have carried her away; but her brother, and her 
mother, said to him, iC Let the damsel abide with us 
fc a few days, at least ten, and after that she shall 
\\ go ; and he said to them, hinder me not, seeing the 
" Lord hath prospered my way, send me away that 
(C I may go to my master. And they said, we will 
iC call the damsel and enquire at her mouth ; and 
" they called Rebekah, and said unto her, wilt thou 
" go with this man f And she said, I will go." 

My Brethren, the eternal Father, in order to obtain 
a wife for his Son, did not send one of his servants to 
seek her ; the Son himself came, to form a church for 
himself. He took our nature, he bought us with his 
blood ; and after having accomplished all that his em- 
bassy required, being anxious to return to his father, 
he asks us to go with him. Who shall decide, whe- 
ther we shall follow him immediately ? If we confer, 
upon it, with flesh and blood — with the world — our 
fal^e friends— our corrupt inclinations ; they will say 
to us, not so soon ; tarry at least, not ten days, but 
ten, fifteen, or twenty years ; and we ourselves &ay^ 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 193 

Lord suffer me first to go and bury my father, 
stay till I have provided for my children, stay till 
I have completed this design, fulfilled this engage- 
ment ; after which, cc I will follow thee," I will 
think of heaven. But Jesus Christ is in haste, he 
presses us. ct I ascend unto my Father, and your 
fC Father, and to my God, and your God." He 
is not inclined to have that soul for his spouse, 
which is not ready to follow him immediately, at 
least by its affections and detachment from the 
world. Say then, Christian soul, wilt thou go with 
this man — with this God-roan ascending to hea- 
ven ? Happy that soul, which answereth, with 
Rebekah, (< I will go;" behold me ready to follow 
him ! 

Christians ! in the name of God, let us think on 
those things which are above, and much less on those 
which are upon the earth. You who so much esteem 
the world ; do you imagine, that, if it had been so 
amiable, Jesus Christ Would not have remained in it ? 
Do you believe, if the treasures— the objects — the 
riches of the world; of which you make so much 
account, had really been worthy to be loved, that 
Jesus Christ would so easily have quitted them? 
But, since he hath trodden under foot all these 
things, and is gone to seek for others, let us also 
despise them, let us, when they would prevent our 
rising, trample them under our feet, and tell them 
we are to follow Jesus Christ. cc Let us arise and 
" depart hence — -for where our treasure is, there 
(C will our heart be also." Let us no longer fear 
death, which must complete our union with him. 
Oh! what shame to us! Jesus Christ is gone, 
a way, and we wish to remain ! Death terrifies us,, 
as if the ascension of Jesus Christ was not an ear- 
nest of our immortality ! Christian soul ! think upon 



1 



194 THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 

thy origin, and earnestly pant to return to thy first 
principle. 

Believers ! to whom grief has caused so much 
trouble ! Refugees ! who have your souls pierced in 
so many places ! console yourselves with the thoughts 
of your Saviour's glory. Is it not glorious, to suffer 
a little for him who reigns over the whole universe ! 
Shall we fear to quit our cottage, to follow a master 
who is exalted to a throne, and who assures us that 
he will, one day, divide his kingdom amongst us ? 
You have lost your goods ; but Jesus Christ keeps for 
you, in reversion, others, which cannot be taken from 
you ; and goods of such a quality, and of such value, 
that the whole world cannot equal the least of them, 
My Brethren, in all our distresses — our losses — our 
fears ; let us confide in him who is gone up into 
heaven. He who is for us, is stronger than all that 
are against us ! Our head is above w ater — above the 
tempest ; let us not fear ; whilst w e are his members 
we shall never perish. Finally, my Brethren ; what 
consolation is it for us all, if we are true Christians — 
if we are regenerated! Where Jesus Christ is as- 
cended, there shall we, one day, be exalted. — 
Believers ! you who are now in prisons, loaded with 
irons, covered with wounds; delivered up to the 
fury of commissioners or executioners ; be of good 
courage, he who dwelleth in the heavens is greater 
than all ! Your chains shall one day be broken ; 
and you shall pass from misery to a throne ! What 
a happy change, for all who shall have suffered per- 
secution, here upon earth, for righteousness sake! 
They shall all be, in spite of their persecutors, 
surrounded with glory and light, and made like 
unto the Son of God ! This great Saviour, shall 
come again, in like manner as he went up: He 
shall come again to seek, and to rejoin, us. What 



THE ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST. 195 



glory ! to be caught up to meet him in the air— to 
follow him into paradise— -to see the everlasting 
gates open to receive us, in triumph, with this king 
of glory ! What happiness then to reign with him 
for ever and ever. May God., in his infinite mercy ^ 
grant it. AMEN ! 



o 2 



f 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT, 



SERMON VII. 

Acts, ii Chap. 33 Verse. 

u Therefore, being by the right hand of God ex- 
alted, and having received of the Father the 
promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth 
this, which ye now see and hear/ 3 



My Brethren, 

We observe that, there is, in nature, a mutual 
commerce between the different parts of the universe ; 
and that the union of this great whole, is kept up by 
a kind of exchange ; every thing borrowing, and 
paying back in return. If the rivers cany to the 
sea, the tribute of their waters, the sea repays them 
with others, by means of subterraneous canals ; and 
if the heavens shed forth, upon the earth, their in- 
fluences, and rains, the earth fails not to send back 
to them, a part of what it has received. . 

But it seems, at first view, that this does not com- 
pletely apply in the work of grace, and that, in this 
respect, the kind of return, or exchange, alluded to, 
has no existence. The heavens can lend to the 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 197 



earth, but what can the earth give in return ? God 
is well able to give to man, and to enrich him ; but 
what can man give, on his part, except his poverty, 
and emptiness ? Nevertheless, what otherwise would 
be incredible, the Christian religion teaches us, that, 
by a mystery altogether divine, a perpetual union is 
formed between man and the divinity; in conse- 
quence of an admirable communication of two na- 
tures, and cf an exchange, which, if I may thus 
speak, becomes reciprocal. We have given to God 
our flesh, and he has imparted to us his spirit. 

The divinity, by the incarnation of the word, hath 
taken to itself our humanity, and hath sent forth 
upon us, the Holy Ghost, by the miracle of the day 
of Pentecost. The ascension of Jesus Christ, hath 
exalted our nature to heaven, upon the throne of the 
universe ; and the descent of the comforter, brings 
the divinity upon earth, and causes it to dwell among 
us, and in us; so that we are the cc Temples, and 
f tabernacles, of God, through the spirit" O ! 
happy and beneficial exchange ! we have given to 
God, only our poverty, and he hath given to us his 
treasures : We have given him nothing but infirm 
flesh, to suffer and die ; and he gives us his spirit, to 
regenerate us, and cause us to live eternally. That 
which he hath taken from us, hath rendered him like 
" The children who are partakers of flesh and 
" blood :" That which we receive of him, makes us, 
" Partakers of the divine nature/' If the Lord had 
confined himself to the first of these two things ; if 
he had been satisfied with uniting himself with our 
nature ; this certainly would have been an inestima- 
ble advantage to us ; since it is by the sufferings of 
his flesh, that he hath expiated sin. This would 
have been great honor to us ; since, by this means, 
we become his brethren, and, after having taken our 

o 3 



198 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT 



humanity, he hath finally gloryfied it, by sitting down 
at the right hand of God. But this alone, would not 
have been sufficient to give us life and immortality, 
to conform us to his image, and to establish between 
him and us, a perfect and entire communication of 
blessings — an union of hearts, and of wills. To ac- 
complish this, it was necessary, that, after having 
exalted our humanity to heaven, he should shed forth 
his spirit upon us, according to his promise. This is 
what, in some sense, we see and hear, on this day ; it 
is the miracle which we celebrate, Jesus Christ hath 
fulfilled his word, and accomplished the exchange ; 
for, saith St. Peter ; in ow text, " Therefore being 
" by the right hand of God exalted, and having 
cc received of the Father, the promise of the Holy 
s< Ghost, he hath shed forth this which ye now see 
(i and hear.'* 

These words, my Brethren, which are a part of St 
Peter's first sermon, on the day of Pentecost ; appear 
to us, peculiarly adapted to this occasion ; as they in- 
clude, in a concise manner, the whole of the mystery. 
We find in them two things ; the gift, and the giver. 
The gift is the Holy Ghost ; the giver is Jesus Christ. 
And these two things, will constitute the two parts of 
our discourse. In the first part, we shall inquire, 
what is this spirit shed forth; — why this spirit is 
called the promise ; — and what are the sensible and 
miraculous effects, which St. Peter indicates when he 
says, " This which ye 'now see and hear?" In 
the second part, we shall consider, how it is Jesus 
Christ who sheds forth the spirit — why it is said he 
" Hath received it of the Father," and why it was 
ft After he was exalted." These are (< The deep 
sc things of God." May the Holy Spirit himself 
give to yojAj ears to hear them, and to me, a mouth 
to declare them. May we say nothing unauthorized 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 199 

by "This spirit of truth and holiness;" or separated 
from a tendency to promote his glory, and our eter- 
nal salvation ! AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 

YOU know, Christians, that the disciples of our 
Saviour, after the departure of their master, were, 
according to his orders, detained at Jerusalem, conti- 
nuing together in retirement, union, and prayer ; and 
waiting for the comforter, which he had promised 
them. At last the day arrived. It was the day of 
Pentecost; an illustrious day among the Jews, be- 
cause, on that day the law had been formerly given 
upon Mount Sinai ; and because it was, also, the 
feast of harvest, or of the first fruits, which were then 
offered to God. Consequently, it was a day pecu- 
liarly proper for beginning the harvest of the gospel, 
and for gathering, and consecrating, the first fruits of 
the Christian church. A day, highly proper for the 
publication of the new law, which came in the place 
of the old one. Then was heaven opened, and there 
was heard, (c The sound — as of a rushing inighty 
" wind, and it filled all the house where they were 
t{ sitting." A celestial flame came to crown their 
heads ; ec And there appeared unto them cloven 
" tongues, like as of fire, and it sat upon each of 
tc them." With these exterior symbols, they receiv- 
ed,, at the same time, the fulness of the spirit. This 
immediately showed itself, by the multiplicity of lan- 
guages which they were suddenly enabled to speak, 
with the same facility, as if they had learned them 
from their childhood. Jerusalem, on account of the 
feast, was, at this time, filled with great numbers of 
Jews, foreigners, and proselytes; besides those who, 



200 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 

having been born out of Judea, resided, nevertheless, 
in that great city, where they had synagogues and 
schools. These Jews, collected together from so 
many different countries, flocked to hear the report 
of the miracle, impelled by that curiosity, which is 
common to all men. But what was their surprize, 
when these poor fishermen, these Galileans, mingling 
among them, took each his place in the crowd, and 
began to speak to those whom they addressed, not 
only in the Syriac language, but to the Romans in 
Latin, to the Greeks in Greek, to each in his mother 
tongue; and in these foreign languages they announc- 
ed, to them, u The wonderful works of God that 
is to say, tilings very sublime ; a new theology, far 
above their uatual capacities. At the hearing of this 
prodigy, some cried out with the greatest astonish- 
ment, " What meaneth this ?" and convinced, in 
some measure, that it was " The finger of God/* 
their admiration prepared them for conversion. While 
others, more prophane, and more hardened, wished to 
turn the miracle into ridicule, saying, " These men 
■ c are full of new wine." A prodigious effect, of the 
corruption of ff The natural man, who receiveth 
" not the things of the spirit of God." " For they 
f( are foolishness unto him." A consequence too 
common, with respect to all the miracles, and all the 
prophecies, which more frequently met with obstinate 
spirits, and mockers, than with souls wise and teach- 
able. Upon this, St. Peter, full of the spirit, which 
he had just received, and performing, in some sense, 
the office of president of the apostolic college, ( - Lifted 
" up his voice," and speaking, undoubtedly, in the 
Hebrew, or Syriac, language, as best known among 
all the Jews, refutes the calumny, unfolds the mys- 
tery, proves, that this was the accomplishment of the 
prophecy of Joel ; and after having demonstrated the 
resurrection, and the glory, of the Saviour, as the true 



t 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 201 

Messiah, witnessed by the prophets; he concludes 
with our text, <c Therefore, being by the right hand 
"of God exalted, and having received of the Fa- 
" iher the promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed 
"forth this ichich ye now see and hear." 

The Holy Ghost, of which St. Peter speaks, as pro- 
raised, and afterwards shed forth, is, you know, my 
Brethren, the third person of the Trinity : God from 
all eternity, with the Father and Son : It was this spi- 
rit who showed forth his power in the creation — who 
spoke, under the law, by the prophets— who appeared 
in the form of a dove, at the baptism of Jesus Christ; 
and who is still more fully — more clearly, manifested ; 
by effects much more admirable, and -general, since 
the Saviour's ascension. 

The Apostle calls it, in this place, cc The promise 
« of the Holy Ghost ;" that is to say, " The Holy 
c< Spirit promised ;" having, in an especial manner, 
respect to the oracle of the prophet Joel, which he was 
about to cite. God had given to man two excellent 
promises; that of his Son, and that of his Spirit. The 
first was the subject of the most ancient of all ora- 
cles. " The seed of the woman shall bruise the 
fe serpent's head ;" and the principal prediction of 
the prophets. The second, although less frequent, is 
found, not only tacitly included, in all the prophecies, 
which point out the nature — the mildness — the extent 
— the establishment of the new covenant, and the 
calling of the Gentiles ; but it is also clearly, and ex- 
pressly, promised to the posterity of the Messiah, in 
the 44th. chap, of Isaiah, tc I will pour my spirit upon 
" thy seed, and my blessing upon thine offspring,'* 
and in the 36th. chap, of Ezekiel, Cf I will sprinkle 
" clean water upon you — I will put my spirit within 
- "you :" And, above all, in the 2d. chap, of Joel, ' 1 and 



202 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 



<( it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God," 
that is to say, in the days of the Messiah, Ci I will pour 
sc out of my spirit upon all flesh ; and on my ser- 
ec vants, and on my hand-maidens — and they shall 
"prophecy." John Baptist, the last of the prophets, 
the forerunner of Jesus Christ, had also said to the 
Jews; * / indeed baptize you with water unto re- 
<c pentance ; but he that comelh after me, shall bap- 
6C the you with tJie Holy Ghost and with fire " — 
Evidently pointing- out, by this, the miracle of Pente- 
cost, in which, the Holy Spirit was given under the 
symbol of fire ; but above all, Jesus Christ himself, had 
often promised this spirit unto his disciples ; as a " com- 
<c forter- — a spirit of truth" — an infallible teachei^to 
conduct them — to iiH iliem — to enable them to speak 
- — ■" To abide with them for ever" This was truly 
the spirit of promise; promised by the father — pro- 
mised by the prophets — by John the Baptist — by 
Jesus Christ ;— and lastly, by the apostles themselves, 
as the great privilege of the gospel — the mark of 
Christians — the eharacteristieal distinction between 
the church and the synagogue — the confirmation of 
the seal of the covenant — the authentic witness of 
the calling of the Gentiles, as well as the Jews, into 
the same body; and the earnest of the eternal inhe- 
ritance. Finally, as the apostles had received it for 
themselves, they also promised it to all who should 
believe in Jesus Christ, through their word. " -Re- 
" pent," saith St Peter, £( And be baptized, every 
<: one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the 
4f remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of 
f * the Holy Ghost ; for the promise is unto you, and 
" to your children, and to all that are ajar off, even 
<c as many as the Lord, our God shall call." There- 
fore the Holy Ghost, is oftcii called, in the writings of 
the apostles, the promise; byway of eminence, or 
the spirit of promise. This promise includes the 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 203 

gift of the spirit itself, and all its graces, whether ex- 
traordinary and miraculous, or ordinary and salutary ; 
which he works, and communicates, in the new cove- 
nant. You know, my Brethren, there are two orders 
of the gifts of this paraclete ; the one necessary for the 
conversion of unbelievers — for the glory of Chris- 
tianity—for the exercise of the apostleship,andfor the 
pomp, if I may so speak, as well as for the the promp- 
titude, of the establishment of religion. The other 
necessary for the faith — the sanctifieation — the per- 
severance, of every believer : " There are diversities 
" °f ' sa ^ St. Paul, in the 12th. chap, of the 
1st. of Corinthians ; " But the same spirit ;" C( There 
4f are diversities of operations, but it is the same 
" God which worketh all in all." It is first, and 
principally, under the quality of the prophetical, and 
miraculous, spirit, producing extraordinary gifts and 
powers, that St. Peter here considers it, when he 
saith, <c Jesus hath received of the Father, the pro- 
s( mise of the Holy Ghost/' and (C That he hath shed 
" forth that which ye now see and hear." For that 
which the Jews saw and heard, were the sensible 
effects, which were altogether divine, of this spirit, in 
the persons of the apostles ; and these effects, and 
gifts, were, in the beginning, absolutely necessary to 
the church. The first of these gifts, of which the 
Jews were witnesses, was that of tongues; for as it is 
said, in the fourth verse of this chapter, as soon as the 
symbols of tongues of fire appeared, " They were 
<( all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak 
** with other tongues, as the spirit gave them utter- 
<c ance" This gift was essentially necessary. How 
should they proclaim the gospel to all nations ? how 
could they lead them to the faith, without being un- 
derstood ? since ce Faith cometh by hearing." More- 
over, the Holy Spirit could not give a more striking 
proof of his miraculous presence., than by enabling a 



204 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 



set of poor illiterate Galileans,, suddenly, to speak 
every kind of language; because, than this, there 
could be no gift more singular — more wonderful — 
less subject to suspicion— more general — more capa- 
ble of surprising all ranks of people. And this divine 
spirit, could not give a more signal proof of this gift, 
than by enabling the apostles, on the day of Pente- 
cost, to speak to the Jews assembled together, from 
all parts of the world. 

The second miracle, which the Holy Spirit pro- 
duced, was, a revelation of the secrets of God; a 
clear, and perfect, knowledge of that which they 
knew but imperfectly, a knowledge, completely new,, 
in its species, a prophetical knowledge of future things : 
All this was requisite to impart to men the rules of 
faith and conduct, to call the Gentiles, whom the Jews 
believed for ever excluded from the covenant of God; 
to write the laws of Jesus Christ, and inform the church 
of its future destiny. In respect to the things which 
the apostles already knew, because they had learnt 
them from Jesus Christ, whether in reference to his 
qualities — his actions — bis truths; or his precepts and 
promises ; all these were among them, like riches con- 
fusedly mixed during the night, in a chamber where 
they are either imperceptible, or only imperfectly 
seen, by the faint glimmering of a taper. But the 
Holy Ghost effected for them, what the sun does when 
it enters a room. It is not the sun that introduces the 
riches it contains — that paints the pictures, or that 
gives the nature and form peculiar to each object: 
But his light renders visible the figures, and colours, of 
these objects, and so by his splendor imparts to them 
the characters of ornament and beauty; by which 
they are distinguished. Thus the spirit caused the 
apostles to comprehend — to feel — to taste* — to discri- 
minate,, all the grand objects of religion, in a manner 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 205 



rnore distinct, than that in which they had before 
seen them. 

In respect to the things which Jesus Christ had 
not taught them, because they could not then bear 
thenr> but which the spirit of truth was to teach them, 
when he should come; such, for instance, as the abo- 
lition of the Jewish ceremonies, and the calling of the 
Gentiles, this spirit guided them into all truth. He 
had been promised to them for this end; and it is in 
reference to these miraculous effects, that St. Paul often 
calls him, ec A spirit of wisdom and revelation — a 
(( spirit which searcheth the deep things of God — 
f< which revealeth the things aforetime hidden, but 
" wholly reserved for the glory of the apostles." 
Jesus was to them, as a master, who gradually, and by 
successive strokes, teaches the unskilful hand of his 
pupil, to form words, or lines ; or, who, by the mix- 
ture of colors, and the application of the pencil, in- 
structs him to sketch, and complete, a portrait. My 
meaning is, that he instructed them gradually, in a 
manner conformable to the ordinary ways of men. 
The Holy Spirit was to them as a printer, who, with 
one stroke only of the press, at once marks the paper 
with perfect characters, and accomplishes, in a mo- 
ment, that, which the pen or pencil had traced with 
much difficulty. What admirable theology suddenly 
appeared in St. Peter ! The man who, before, could 
not comprehend that Jesus Christ was to die, and 
who understood not the scriptures, now interprets Joel 
and David : Proves, from both, that we must believe 
in Jesus risen from the dead ; and he and his col- 
leagues reveal the mysteries which were before veiled 
in obscurity. Whence cometh this ? it is, say they, 
because Jesus Christ hath received of his Father the 
spirit of truth and infallibility, which he had promised 
us, to teach us all things, and (( He hath shed forth 



I 



206 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 

this which ye now see and hear This gift of 
tongues — this understanding of the oracles — this 
knowledge which is manifested unto you ; and which 
so greatly astonishes you I 

The third miraculous effect of the Holy Ghost, in 
the apostles, was to invest them with a power, almost 
unbounded, to confirm their doctrine, and testi- 
mony, by all kinds of signs — by the gift of healing 
— by miracles, wrought in the name of Jesus. He 
had, moreover, promised him to them for this end* 
t( Wliatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, 
H he icill give it you." "All things shall be subject 
sc unto you. You shall cast out devils, you shall tread 
"on scorpions, and serpents, and nothing shall by 
ec any means hurt you." In reference to which he 
hath therefore shed forth the spirit of promise ; for 
the apostles were as gods to other men : They dis- 
cerned spirits— they knew hidden things — they punish* 
ed with death — they restored to life. And that which 
appeared the completion of miraculous gifts, they had 
power to communicate, by the imposition of hands, a 
portion of all these gifts to other persons, who believed, 
through their word, in Jesus Christ. So that all the 
primitive church was only as an assembly of prophets, 
and men, endued with extraordinary gifts. Those 
Jews, to whom St. Peter spoke, in our text, saw only 
the preludes, of that kind of supernatural power, but 
they saw a thousand proofs of it afterwards : And it 
is easy to comprehend how necessary, and proper, it 
then was to cause men to be attentive to the word 
preached — to overcome unbelief — to impress the stamp 
of authority upon the missions of the heralds of the gos- 
pel — to cause them to be considered as the ambassa- 
dors of God : Without which, no one was obliged to 
believe them upon their own word; and without which 
it cannot be conceived^ that the world w ould ever re- 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 207 

ceive things as new, as they were incredible. Such 
were the truths of the gospel. 

. The fourth effect of the spirit, in the disciples, was 
the perfection which he gave to their powers, so far as 
was admissible by the condition of man, and requisite 
to the functions of the ministry, to which God had ap- 
pointed them. Their holiness — their courage — their 
firmness — their patience ; were, in reality, gifts, rather 
internal than external; and approached nearer, than 
the others, of which we shall speak, to the common, 
and ordinary, effects of the spirit of God, in all true 
believers. But, nevertheless, there was, in the mea- 
sure — the force — the duration ; of these virtues, some- 
thing very much superior to what he usually grants, 
and above the ordinary condition of the children of 
God in general. There was something which, even 
outwardly, in their life and in their death, shone with 
resplendent lustre. In them the impluse of the will 
corresponded, in some sense, to the light of the under- 
standing: And as the objects of religion appeared to 
them in a light, much more clear than to other men; 
it was easy to comprehend that their hearts were 
touched — that their love was inflamed — that all their 
passions were excited; in a higher degree than in 
Christians of a second order. They had, before, the 
love of their Master: Who can question it? But 
this was not yet very evident; it was like perfume in- 
closed in a box, which exhales but a small portion of 
its odoriferous particles. But as soon as the spirit 
descended, this perfume, excited by the heat of that 
divine fire, diffused its odour in all directions. These 
apostles, were before, cold and timid; they are now 
become " eouragious as lions," and "fervent in 
"spirit!" What fervour! what courage! They ex- 
pose themselves to every danger— they preach Jesus 
Christ — they confound Jiis murderers ! they are now 



208 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT* 



as ready to shed their bloody as they were before to 
seek security in flight! they seek death, even to the 
ends of the earth ! Nothing can arrest them in their 
design, every where, to plant the cross of their master. 
From whence did this proceed? It was, said St.Peter^ 
because Jesus, "Having received of the Father, the 
"promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this 
"which ye now see and hear." 



SECOND PART. 



know, my Brethren, that in the scriptures the 
sending of the Holy Ghost, is sometimes attributed to 
the Father, and sometimes to the Son. If the Lord 
said, in one place, to his disciples, " The Father shall 
" give you the comforter ;" he saith, elsewhere, "I 
" will send you the spirit of truth, from the Father." 
This spirit of truth, is also sometimes called " The 
" spirit of God f and sometimes., " The spirit of 
" Christ." And St. Paul tells us, that, " God hath 
" sent forth the spirit of his Son, into our hearts, 
" crying Abba Father" Moreover, this Holy Spirit, 
naturally, proceeds from the Father and the Son, 
Thus it is that we conceive of his personal subsist- 
ance. He does not proceed from the Father only, as 
the Greek church believes | this was the subject of 
schism with the Latin church ; but he proceeds, also, 
from the Son, as the Latin churches always held, con- 
formably to the scriptures. And in his operations, in 
reference to the church, the word of God represents 
him to us, as always acting with some dependence, 
both upon the Father and upon the Son ; and as sent 
by both : By the Father, as the first principle, who in 
all the economy of salvation, sustains the rights of 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 209 



divinity; by the Son, as the established mediator, 
God and Man united together, that he might be the 
representative of God, the proprietor, and distributor, 
of all grace. 

It is under this character of mediator, that St. Peter 
here considers him, when he saith these three things 
of him ; " That he hath been exalted to the riglit 
" hand of God." That he, afterwards, " Received 
" of his Father the promise of the Holy Ghost 
and " That he shed forth those extraordinary 
<c graces," of which the Jews were witnesses. When- 
ever the scripture attributes the glory, the kingdom, 
the exaltation, to the Father ; it has an eye to the 
Son, in the quality of mediator. But then, to be ex- 
alted with the right hand of God, is not, altogether, 
the same thing, as to be seated at his right hand; these 
are two modes of speaking, somewhat different. The 
one sets forth the power of God, in elevating his Son. 
The other, the dignity, that the Son hath received, 
and which he possesses on the behalf of his Father. 
Christ hath been exalted with the right hand of God, 
that is to say, by his power and virtue. This is a 
mode of speaking, very familiar, in the scriptures ; 
and especially in the Psalms, where the right hand is 
mentioned, to set forth his strength and power ; be- 
cause it is with this hand, that men are accustomed 
to act, and to exert their strength. Our apostle might 
have said that J esus Christ was exalted by his own 
power, since he hath, in reality, one and the same 
divinity, and one and the same power, with the 
Father. But considering him, as the promised Mes- 
siah, and, wishing to excite the Jews to receive him 
as such ; this expression was more proper, to attri- 
bute his exaltation to the Father ; and this idea was 
more congenial to his auditors. It is in this same 
quality of mediator, appointed to govern the church,, 



10 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT* 



that the apostle considers the Lord, when he adds, 
% and having received of the Father, the promise of 
c \ the Holy Ghost." Jesus Christ, as the Son of 
God, and the eternal word, hath not received the 
Holy Ghost ; since he cannot he conceived as separate 
from him, but as one and the same God, blessed for 
ever with the Father. You will probably answer, 
that, in this respect, we cannot even say that Jesus 
Christ, as mediator, " Received the Holy Ghost after 
<c his exaltation since he had it already, in all its 
fulness. And that it descended upon him on the day 
of his baptism, But you should remember, that what 
is here said, relates to Jesus Christ, receiving the 
Holy Ghost, to give to his disciples. He received 
this spirit for himself, when it descended upon him, 
in the form of a dove ; he received it for his church, 
when, having been exalted to the heavens, he be- 
came the proprietor of all the treasures of his 
father. 

If you ask me, why was it necessary for Jesus 
Christ to ascend to heaven, before he could receive the 
Holy Ghost to communicate it to us ? attend to the 
following reasons. In the first place, my Brethren, 
with respect to the apostles in particular, while the 
Saviour was with them upon earth, they had no need 
of the Holy Ghost, in the character of a " Comforter;" 
for they had Jesus Christ himself with them, to com- 
fort them. The bridegroom was yet among them ; 

- this was the time of rejoicing ! But when the bride- 

- groom was taken away from them, it was then need- 
ful that another comforter should come, to supply his 
place. While the Saviour was with the apostles, 
there was no need that the Holy Ghost should come 
to be their teacher ; the Son of God was sufficient to 

• instruct them. So that it was not, till after the de- 
"parttire of Christ, that they were to put their hand to 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 211 



the work of building the church, and become its 
teachers ; and it was for this that they must receive 
the Holy Ghost. As the stars hide their diminished 
heads, before the sun, and as all subaltern authorities 
cease, in the presence of their sovereign ; it was 
neither necessary., nor expedient, for the apostles to 
receive that large measure of the spirit, while Christ 
was upon earth. Because all authority was to ap- 
pear united in the person of their redeemer ; and it 
was sufficient, that he himself possessed all the pleni- 
tude of gifts. But when he had quitted the world, 
that the apostles might finish the work which he had 
begun ; it was necessary that they should be endued 
with the gifts of the spirit; that they might be ren- 
dered capable of this divine work. It was necessary 
that God should take, of the spirit of our Moses, that 
he might shed it forth upon those, who were appoint- 
ed to watch over, and conduct, his people. 

Secondly, my Brethren, to take a general view of 
the spirit, in reference to the whole church. This 
paraclete was to be a treasure, bought, and merited, 
by Jesus Christ, as one of the fruits of his sacrifice, 
an effect of his intercession. The coming of the 
Holy Ghost is the greatest of God's benefits to man, 
and the overflowing of his gifts. It was not possi- 
ble, therefore, that the Father should give him, un- 
less his justice were satisfied, and his lovingkindnesg 
obtained, by a perfect sacrifice. But the sacrifice 
of Christ, which alone could purchase, and merit, so 
great a benefit, would not have been fully finished, 
and perfected, if Christ had not entered into " The 
" holy place, made without hands:" And if he had 
not there presented to God, the virtue of "His blood, 
" ever new and living/' Having, therefore, sprin- 
kled the mercy seat, and caused the incense to 
ascend ; he hath received authority to bless his peo- 

p 2 



212 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT 



pie ; and this priestly benediction, consists in the 
gifts of the Holy Ghost, which he hath shed forth 
from his holy place, in the heavens. 

In the third place, the Holy Ghost was to descend 
upon the earth, to confirm the doctrine of Jesus 
Christ ; to enable men to preach, and to receive, his 
gospel. But it was necessary, in order to this, that 
the Lord should finish his work here below, and take 
his place, upon his throne, in the heavens. For it 
was necessary, that the Holy Ghost should cause to 
be announced to the world, a work accomplished, and 
not simply begun ; a salvation purchased, and not to 
be purchased ; a God appeased, and not now an ene- 
my ; a Jesus glorious, and adorable, and not now" 
persecuted, and suffering. It appears, therefore, that 
it was necessary to wait till the Son had finished all 
his work, and had entered into his glory, before 
the Holy Ghost should come, to cause him to be 
ss Preached unto the Gentiles, and believed on in 
t: the loorld." Finally, my Brethren, the gifts of 
the Holy Ghost were to be an act of the kingly power 
of Jesus Christ, but he could not have been fully, 
and publickly, installed into his kingly office, but 
by his ascension. He must be made a king before 
he bestows the gifts — the marks of generosity, which 
usually accompanied the coronation of kings, and the 
triumphs of conquerors. But, " Having ascended 
" on high, he hath given gifts to men/' as St. Paul 
saith, after David, he hath done that which was prac- 
tised among the Jews, in their feasts and solemnities, 
and by the Roman emperors, on their days of mag- 
nificence : He hath sent us presents, distributed 
riches: And what are these presents? What are 
these riches? C( This which you now see and hear " 
saith St. Peter ; gifts incredible and unheard of ! He 
might have added, this, which we feel, and cannot 
express : Spiritual and unutterable riches ! 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 213 

But this being once granted, that Jesus Christ 
must be glorified, in order to give us the Holy Spirit ; 
it is as much as to say, that this spirit was not before 
communicated to the faithful ; while the contrary ap- 
pears, in every part of the bible. What! had not 
the patriarchs, and prophets, already received the 
Holy Ghost, since it was by him that they spoke, and 
it was he that moved and inspired them ! had the old 
testament believers, no part in this spirit, since they 
waited for, and believed, the promises ? Since they 
were sanctified and comforted? What new privi- 
lege is there then here, for Christians ? My Bre- 
thren, it is certain that, under the ancient economy, 
the spirit was shed forth, either for the extraordinary 
gifts of prophecy and miracles, with which Moses, 
and many others, were invested ; or for the ordinary 
gifts of that " Free spirit/' of that ce Spirit of holt- 
" ness/' which David asked, and which was effectually 
granted to the elect. But first ; with regard to the mi- 
raculous gift of the spirit ; it was only communicated, 
at different times, to a few persons, to some prophet, 
in each age. The spirit usually seized them in a vio- 
lent manner, it did not fill them at all times, but at in- 
tervals ; and it operated in them, without their com- 
prehending what the spirit compelled them to do or 
say. In a word, this prophetic spirit appeared no 
more among the Jews, after the days of Malachi. 
Conceive then, that, on the day of Pentecost, and 
afterwards, this gift of the ancient prophets re-ap- 
peared. What do I say? Instead of two or three 
prophets, we behold almost as many, as there are 
men believing in Jesus; not only twelve apostles, in- 
stantaneously, but all those upon whom they laid their 
hands, received some miraculous gift. These are not 
men brought up in the schools of the prophets, as in 
days of old. They are Galileans, poor men, men of 
all conditions ; contrary to the prejudices of the Jews, 

p 3 



214 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 



who affirm, that the Holy Ghost did not descend upon 

the poor. 

The ancient times had scarcely known more than 
two or three prophetesses ; but, in the first ages of the 
church, women received this power, as well as men ; 
insomuch that Philip, the deacon, had four daughters 
who prophesied. In other respects, the spirit fill- 
ed the apostles, without enthusiasm — without vio- 
lence — without ever quitting them; remaining with 
them always, and not at intervals only; as among the 
prophets of the Old Testament. Finally, they had 
the gi t of tongues, and many other gifts which had 
not been given under the law ! Above all, a know- 
ledge of mysteries, as different from that of the ancients 
as the light of the sun, at noon day, is from the shadowy 
light of the stars! I ask then, if when Jesus Christ 
promised that such a spirit, in such a measure, in such 
abundance, should be so generally shed forth, and 
should produce such effects, if he did not make a 
new promise ? and if, when he received this spirit, 
and shed it forth afterwards ; it was not a thing which 
gave to the Christian church an, almost infinite, ad- 
vantage over that of the J ews ? 

In the second place, as to the ordinary gifts of faith 
and sanctifi cation, I confess that, as there was under 
the law, a mixture of mercy amidst the severities of 
justice, some preludes of grace, some glimmerings of 
the gospel, among the shadows of the legal ceremo- 
nies; they had also some precious gifts of the spirit, 
of regeneration and consolation, without which, the 
faithful would then have had neither consolation nor 
salvation. But this was confined to so few people, 
and exerted in so small a measure, in comparison 
with the gospel, that these gifts were lost, if I may 
thus speak, as tokens of the goodness of God. This 



THE OUT-POURING OP THE SPIRIT* 215 

spirit which, according to the nature of the covenant,, 
caused rather the emotions of fear, than of confidence, 
of bondage, than of adoption, is calculated to inform 
us, that it is not without cause, that the effusion of 
the spirit of grace is looked upon as a privilege, alto- 
gether new, and peculiar to Christians. 

All scripture expressions, which represent the gift 
of the Holy Ghost, under the gospel, include the idea 
of an abundant effusion ! It is a dew, c( As the dew 
ec of herbs/ 3 saith Isaiah, in his twenty-sixth chap. 
As you observe in the mornings of the finest days, at 
the rising of the sun, all the herbs of the field mois- 
tened with a sweet moisture, which is formed by the 
dew of heaven, and which the dry herb drinks in, 
with avidity : Even so, in the beginning of the day 
of the gospel, after the night of the law, we have seen 
all the plants of the Lord's field. These plants, for- 
merly dry and barren, we have seen them all drink- 
ing in one and the same spirit ; according to the ex- 
pression of St. Paul ; all bathed with this dew ; 
more excellent than that which descended upon 
Mount Hermon ! A dew, which reneweth souls — 
which is the honey dew — the hidden manna — the 
nourishing moisture ! A dew, which causes them to 
germinate, and put forth all kinds of virtues, and 
good works ! Zechariah, predicting, in his eighth 
chapter, the establishment of the church, under the 
Messiah, said, (e The heavens shall give their dew." 
Formerly it appeared as if, the heavens were iron and 
brass ! At most, a little cloud, like a man's hand, 
distilled some foretaste, upon a small corner of the 
earth, upon Judea, as upon Gideon's fleece ; while 
the rest of the universe was dry; but the heavens 
did not shed forth, on all sides, this sweet and fruit- 
ful humidity ; so necessary to quicken all things ! 
What then is the privilege of the gospel ? It is, that 



216 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 



the heavens have opened themselves, in all their ex- 
tent, and have distilled their dew ! Behold these other 
expressions ! " I will pour water upon him that is 
<e thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground/' saith 
the Lord, in Isaiah ; and that we may not doubt that 
it is the spirit of which he speaks, he adds ; " I will 
"pour out of my spirit upon thy seed." Elsewhere, 
the same prophet says, " God shall change the 
" parched ground into a pool, and he shall cause 
4t waters to spri?ig up in the ?nost barren places" 

Jesus Christ saith, cc The water that he giveth, 
" shall be, in him that drinketh it, a well of water, 
*' springing up into everlasting life." And that, 
" He who believeth on him — out of his belly shall 
"flow, rivers of living water" This he spake, as 
St. John informs us in his seventh chapter, ce Of the 
" spirit, which they that believe on him should re- 
" ceive." But all these expressions lead us to con- 
ceive of a large and abundant effusion. 



CONCLUSION. 

JLiET us then bless, yea, let us eternally bless the 
Father, who, with so much liberality, hath given his 
treasures to the Son ; that we might be partakers ! 
Let us bless the Son, who hath shed forth blessings, 
with such magnificence, and profusion ! Let us bless 
the Holy Ghost, who, concurring in the designs of 
the Father and the Son, communicates himself in so 
abundant a manner ! 

Who would not have imagined, that the eternal 
Father, having given his only Son to the world, would 
have added nothing more to so great a present : and 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 217 

that, infinite as he is in riches, his liberality would, 
nevertheless, have been found exhausted : Since he 
hath given him, who is infinite in himself — in his 
nature — in his merit? Who would not have ima- 
gined, after having retaken to himself this Son, whom 
he had shown for some time, and lent, as it were, to 
the world, that, dissatisfied with the manner in which 
men had treated him, he would have locked up his 
riches, and retained them in his own bosom; there 
to remain as a standing proof of our ingratitude and 
scorn ? Alas ! if it had been thus, what would have 
become of us? the fruit of all the rest, would have 
been quickly lost; and Jesus Christ, his advent, and 
his doctrine, still but little known, would have been 
presently forgotten ; but the liberality of the Father, 
is not confined to the gift of the Son. After one 
infinite present, he hath yet another to make us, no 
less valuable, which is his spirit. We might also 
easily have believed, that the Son of God, after 
having done so much for us here below, and having 
given unto us, his own blood, would have confined 
himself to this; and that, satisfied with having 
instructed and ransomed us, he would only have 
observed, from the heavens, into which he had as- 
cended, the use we should make of his instructions 
and death. But no ! he is entered into the palace of 
his glory, only to send us the spirit in his place; he 
hath possessed the treasures of his father, only that, 
with them, he might enrich us. Like the angel spoken 
of in the 8th. of Revelations, (C He hath taken in his 
" hand the golden censer and filled it with the fire 
" of the altar, and cast it into the earth." I mean, 
he hath interceded with the Father — he hath obtained 
the Holy Spirit — he hath communicated it to us ! 

Believers, let us admire the gift which he has 
bestowed upon us, and render thanks to the giver ! 



218 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 

Ah ! how shall we apply our admiration, who so often 
lavish it upon things which, in reality, are of little 
value ; if we feel none for the wonders of Pentecost ; 
and if we are not ravished whenever we think upon 
them? What honor for the church, to have been 
baptized, by the Holy Ghost, in its infancy ? What 
cause of confidence, to know that the Holy Ghost is 
its teacher and governor, and that the apostles had 
spoken only by him ? What a motive to excite us to 
believe, to establish us, more fully, in the faith ; and 
to lead us to embrace with joy, all the heavenly doc - 
trine, which they have left us ? After all, it is 
not simply the happiness of the infant church, that 
we celebrate, it is the glory of our religion. It 
is our own happiness that we publish. What ! are 
we not still enlightened by the same fire, which de- 
scended from heaven, and which shines in our scrip- 
tures? And is not that which has served to confirm 
the faith of the primitive Christians, a security for 
that which we believe, and teach, after them? 

But, this is not all ; the sources of grace, which were 
formerly open, are still so ; and are shed forth, every 
day, in the church. The Holy Ghost, in the charac- 
ter of the spirit of faith, of sanctification, and conso- 
lation, in the faithful j hath not ceased, and never 
shall cease, to be shed forth by Jesus Christ our head ; 
and by virtue of his merit and intercession. Behold 
Christians, how great is his love! and by what marks 
he hath made himself known ! 

We know his love only by its benefits; if we 
judge then, of the tenderness of the Lord, over his 
church, by his liberality ; what abundant reason have 
we to cry out with extacy, "Behold how he loved us V 
Since, after having given his blood, he hath given us 
his spirit; his spirit, without which we are only m 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT* 219 

darkness and death ; his spirit, which is the soul of 
our soul, — the guide of our journey, — the bond of our 
union with him — the earnest of our immortality — the 
light of our eyes — the healer of our passions ! If the 
utility, and necessity, of a thing render it estimable • 
if they enhance the value of the love, and liberality, 
which arebestowed ; and if they should, consequently, 
augment the gratitude of the receiver; what is more 
necessary than the Holy Spirit ? If it was necessary 
for the church, when it was brought to the birth • 
is it not still so, to preserve it, — to animate it ? If it 
was so, to the primitive Christians, to work so many 
miracles ; is it not still so to every believer ? Not in- 
deed to speak diverse languages, or to interpret them ; 
but properly to speak, and well to understand, the 
language of Canaan. Not cc to reveal things that 
£C were hidden,; but to believe unto salvation, those 
things which are revealed. Not to cast out Devils, 
but to overcome our evil habits. Yes ! this is a truth 
which the scripture every where teaches us, that such 
is the blindness of our understanding, since the fall ; 
such the depravity of our will — the strength of our 
prejudices — of our passions — of our habits ; such, in 
a word, the bondage in which our soul now finds it- 
self, in a body, the excesses, and violence, of which, 
only incline to earthly things ; that we cannot see the 
truth so as to love it; so as to prefer heaven to earth, 
the future to the present ; so that we cannot always 
resist, especially, great temptations, without the gift, 
and assistance, of the Holy Ghost. Nothing then is 
more absolutely necessary, than that spirit, which 
Jesus Christ sheds forth from heaven. There is 
nothing on account of which, the church who enjoys 
it, and the faithful, who feel it, should be more in- 
duced to render to God, and to our Saviour, eternal 
praises and thanksgivings ! 



220 THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT 



But where are those feeling, and grateful souls^ 
who render any thing to Jesus Christ, for so rich a 
present ? Surely, we ought to render love for love, to 
open all our heart to receive this gift of heaven. 
What do we ? Instead of this, we give ourselves 
wholly to the world. Is it because we prefer the gifts 
of the world to those of our Saviour ? Or, is it be- 
cause we have not (C Tasted of the heavenly gift 
and only know this spirit by the hearing of the ear ! 

Ah ! divine spirit, communicated so abundantly in 
days of old ! It now appears as if thou didst no 
longer descend upon us; and as if thy gifts could no 
longer extend to us, through so many ages ! Or rather, 
since thou art not exhausted, in thyself, and as it is 
only the obstacles we throw in the way of thy grace, 
which deprive us of them ; it seems as rf our coldness 
had so quenched thee, our sins so grieved thee, that 
thou art almost no longer felt, and that we scarcely 
see any more of the sparks of thy fire! Christians! 
let us do all in our power to obtain — to preserve, this 
divine comforter ! If we have still reason to doubt our 
ever having received him, let us lament our misery, 
since, although the dew of grace has fallen in so many 
places, we have not tasted of it; and because we are 
as dry, and cold, in the church, as if the spirit had 
never descended from heaven. Let us sigh, let us 
pray ! This is the way to obtain it. " For if ye being 
" evil, know how to give good gifts unto your chil- 
cc dren, how much more shall your heavenly Father 
f( give his holy spirit to them who ask him V- Let 
us thirst like the Israelites, and let us cry to heaven 
that we may be watered ; and when it shall be neces- 
sary for the rock to be opened, the waters shall flow; 
or rather, since the rock, the stone, which is Christ, 
is open ; the waters will not fail to quench our thirst. 
Neither know I of any other way to regain grace, after 



THE OUT-POURING OF THE SPIRIT. 221 



having lost it, than to dismiss from our hearts, the 
passions that have filled it, than to sigh and to pray. 

If we have this spirit, let us take heed; not to 
quench it ; let us rather endeavor to cherish it, with 
an assiduous watchfulness ; as the priests, of old, pre- 
served the fire upon the altar. What will be the 
consequence of this, my Brethren ? It will be that 
this spirit, who shall see that we ask for him — that 
we cherish him ; shall love us — shall preserve us — 
shall enliven us — shall support us. He cometh from 
heaven, he shall lead us to his native place : And as 
he proceeds from the glorious Jesus, he shall also 
make us one day, eternally glorious with him. God 
grant it ; and, to the Holy Spirit, with the Father and 
the Son, be honor and glory. AMEN. 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



SERMON VIIL 

James, i Chap. 22 Verse. 

But he ye doers of the word, and not hearers 
only, deceiving your own selves." 



My Brethren, 

TFHERE is scarcely a reflection, more astonishing", 
and more afflicting, than that which we are often 
obliged to make, upon the little fruit of the preaching* 
of the word. The merchant is astonished, and afflicted, 
when, in spite of his care and toil, he sees his hopes 
blasted, and his exertions without success. The hus- 
bandman complains, in his unsuccessful years, that 
the grain which he had sown, produced only a small 
crop. The physician sometimes sighs at the obsti- 
nacy of those diseases, which resist his art, and 'his 
medicines. And should not the minister of the gos- 
pel be astonished, and afflicted, to see that he often 
casts the net, without taking any thing — that he 
labors without gaining scarcely any one to Jesus 
Christ — that he in vain offers remedies to sick persons 
— that he sows the seed of the word almost uselessly, 
without perceiving that it shoots forth, and germinates 
in the heart? The present times are truly sorrowful, 



Ti'lE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 223 



a'nd bur years are evil— years of barrenness. We 
will not say with the Lord, that the laborers are few ; 
it is not that which hath hitherto failed in these parts ; 
but, with many laborers, where is the fruit? Truly, 
it is very difficult for the servants of God not to have 
in their mouth, and iri their heart, the complaint of 
Isaiah; " Who hath believed our report ?" Which 
we can scarcely avoid asking", when we consider how 
few there are, who receive the word in good and 
honest hearts. Out of four kind of hearers which 
Jesus Christ has pointed out to us in the parable of 
the sower, he observes, that there is only one good ; 
and T may venture to say, that this class is not equal 
in number, to the third part of each class, of the bad. 
Can we think upon this without sorrow, when we 
know what interest men have, in observing this word, 
since their everlasting 1 happiness or misery depends 
upon it. But, my Brethren, it would be useless to 
complain of an evil, without attempting to point out 
a remedy ; and it is absolutely necessary- to your sal- 
vation, as well as to your present consolation, that we 
should prevail upon you to cc Obey from, the heart 
" that form of doctrine , which was delivered- you." 
It is with this intent, that we have chosen the exhor- 
tation of St. James, (C But be ye doers of the word, 
"and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves/* 
This exhortation scarcely requires explanation ; it 
requires only to be enforced, enlarged upon, and ap- 
plied to our state. God grant that it may be as effi- 
cacious as it is proper ! The apostle had the same 
end in view, that we now have. It appears, by the 
whole of this epistle, that he had to do with certain 
men, who made their boast only of speculative know- 
ledge ; and who took away from religion, its essence 
and its heart, which consist in practice; as if the 
church were only an auditory similar to the schools 
of masters,, orprofessors of the sciences, where the only 



\ 



224 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



object is to become learned ; and as if faith were* 
nothing' more than a dry speculative knowledge. St. 
James every where combats these men,, and their vain 
prejudices. He continues, in the three following 
verses, to press the same exhortation ; but ours is the 
substance, and the precise meaning of all the rest. 

Hence we purpose to consider three things : First 
what the apostle supposes; which is, that men are 
often satisfied with being only hearers of the word ; 
as if that alone were sufficient This is a truth con- 
firmed by experience, and it is the defect, against 
which St. James would guard us : " But be ye — not 
C( hearers only." This shall be the subject of our 
first part. — In the second place, we shall see that 
men often deceive themselves in this respect, (namely) 
hearing the word, " He deceiveth his own self. 3 ' 
This is, in some measure, the cause of preachers 
having so little fruit. This shall be the subject of 
our second part. — Finally, we shall inquire what must 
be done, after having seen what is to be avoided ; 
fc Be ye doers of the word." This shall be the third 
part of our discourse ; in which we shall endeavor to 
show you, not only the necessity of obeying the word ; 
but the means by which we may so hear it, as to re- 
duce it to practice. God grant that the fruit of this 
sermon may be answerable to our intention : " If any 
<c man hath ears to ear, let him hear" 



FIRST PART. 

My Brethren, simply to hear the word without 
putting it in practice, is a defect, perhaps more com- 
mon than we imagine. It is a defect which is almost 



I 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 225 

general. In order to set this before you, in a proper 
manner, I shall reduce to three classes, these bad 
hearers, who hear merely for the sake of hearing, but 
do not practice : I could greatly swell the number of 
the different kinds of them, but I shall include all the 
rest in these three principal classes, which are, (( The 
" curious" — " the negligent" — ce the prejudiced." 
And I intreat you to remember, that however we may 
distinguish these three classes of barren hearers, it 
nevertheless, frequently, and perhaps generally, hap- 
pens, that the greatest part of those who do not profit 
by the word, are altogether curious, negligent, and 
prejudiced : That they unite these three characters, 
and are prevented by these three defects, from putting 
the word in practice. 

The first class of Christians, who are cc hearers 
<f only," are the cc curious :" Frequently those who are 
men of wit, or who imagine themselves such; persons, 
whose imaginations are lively, who love novelty, and 
eloquence ; and who esteem the talents of preachers, 
when they are possessed of them. These men, in 
general, have little, or no true love for piety, and reli- 
gion. Custom induces them to come to church; but 
they imagine, that they have need of a great stock of 
patience, to hear what they call indifferent sermons ; 
they avoid them, when they can doit, with decency; or 
they revenge themselves by criticising, blaming, or 
lampooning, the preacher. What then is the charm 
that can attract them : It is the hope to hear some- 
thing that will please them, delight their ear, or ex- 
cite their admiration. 

Curiosity is a passion very natural to man. It is 
no great commendation to the word of God, when it 
can excite in us a passion, similar to that, which the 
least discovery in the arts and sciences — the relation 



226 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD, 



of a traveller — the adventures of an individual — the 
news of the day are able to excite, and continually 
produce. It is not much to the honor of a minister 
of the gospel, when he is able to draw upon him, 
nearly the same applauses, that are given to acade- 
mical discourses — to orations — to the harangues of 
able orators. But now the curiosity of our hearers, is 
no longer much gratified even with the novelty of the 
things which are preached to them. This had its use 
in the beginnings of Christianity. Jesus Christ, and 
his apostles, taught things which were very new and 
very extraordinary : (C Things which eye had not 
" seen, nor ear heard, neither had entered the 
(C heart of man:" Which, in a word, had neither 
been understood nor imagined before. This was 
sufficiently gratifying to the curiosity, which fre- 
quently drew many auditors to the first heralds of 
grace : And this curiosity often terminated most hap- 
pily ; the hearer often found himself affected — won 
over — ravished. It was the same at the beginning of 
the Reformation : They whose sermons were simple 
enough, in other respects, and sufficiently destitute of 
the aid of art, had the happiness of speaking to a peo- 
ple, who coming forth, from the thick darkness of 
Popery, looked upon them as men descended from the 
skies, to announce to them new things. Curiosity 
very much increased the crowd of their hearers, and 
the avidity which they evinced, to learn what they 
knew not, sufficiently induced them to follow the ad- 
vice of their teachers ; but now amidst those who 
enjoy a fixed and established ministry, the auditors 
know in general, the depth of the subjects preach- 
ed, or they imagine they know them ; they often 
look upon themselves, as capable as the men who 
teach them. " What shall we learn " say they, 
(( from a sermon ?" There is then scarcely any hope 
of their learning any new truth, which will attract 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 227 



them. It is no longer merely the novelty in the 
manner of the preacher, in explaining a text, in em- 
bellishing a discourse, and delivering it in public. 
According to the happiness, or unhappiness, which 
the preacher has to please or displease them, they 
load him with praises or blame, they applaud or de- 
spise him ; and this is nearly the whole of the matter ; 
one says " I am of Paul ;" another, " I of'Apollos;" 
another, " I of Cephas." Here particular talents are 
esteemed ; here persons idolized, and separations take 
place, in favor of one or the other ; and it appears, 
that the gospel is no longer esteemed, but according 
to the estimation, or merit, of him who preaches it. 

Finally, our curious hearers are not all of the same 
order, nor do they wholly confine themselves to the 
same thing; their curiosity varies, according to the 
diversity of their inclinations and their genius : There 
are some who seek only to please the ear, and the 
imagination ; and this is what is called life, in ser- 
mons. God complained, in days of old, of something 
like this, in the 33d. chap, of Ezekiel : tc They come 
" unto thee as the people comelh" saith the Lord to 
his prophet : " And they sit before thee as my peo- 
(C pie, and they hear thy icords but they will not do 
tc them ; for with their mouth they show much love, 
(C but their heart goeth out after their covetousness. 
" And, lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely song 
cc of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play 
{c well on an i?istrument ; for they hear thy words, 
<c but they do them not." There are other curious 
hearers, who receive the word ; these appear to make 
a little more use of their curiosity, and to have some- 
thing more in view in hearing, than to please their 
imagination. There are they who pretend to draw 
some advantage from sermons which they hear; that 
they may acquire wit or eloquence, (S We go," say 

^2 



228 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



they, " to hear an able orator, we shall receive 
" profit." What profit do they expect ? Why, they 
feed their desire of praise, and enhance their own re- 
putation. Thus it is, that preachers themselves some- 
times seek, in the sermons of others, only that which 
is likely to be useful to them in their own profession. 
Many have a more general end in view ; they love to 
learn : Thus their design, in hearing sermons, is to 
grow in knowledge. This appears plausible. But 
they wish to know, merely for the sake of knowing, 
and of being good divines, and mighty in the scrip- 
tures, without striving to become more holy. It is 
still only curiosity ; and an unfruitful desire for know- 
ledge, by which these are excited. Never was there 
more eagerness after knowledge, or more dislike to 
practice. To endeavor earnestly to inforce morality, 
and the duties of religion, is sufficient to offend some 
men. Seneca complained of the philosophers, " That, 
" in proportion to their becoming wise they ceased to 
€e be good." We may say nearly the same of modern 
Christians. We know much, and we practice little ; 
all is subservient to the understanding. And provided 
we are satisfied in what relates tp our curiosity, and 
to the desire of knowledge, we give ourselves but 
little trouble to profit by sermons, in what respects 
true piety. 1 am not then astonished, that St. James 
complains of some who were hearers only, but did 
not practice. There is a considerable class of men 
who are evidently guilty of this crime ; these are they 
who hear merely out of curiosity. 

The second class of those who sin against the pre- 
cept of our apostle, are the negligent hearers. This 
class of hearers are still more common, and include 
many more, than the first. The greater part of our 
hearers come not to hear the word from mere curio- 
sity : We must do them justice, they come with a 



THE PRACTICE OP THE WORD. 229 



design, which is a little better. They wish to acquit 
themselves in a thing which they esteem, in itself, as 
a beauty in religion. I mean hearing the word. 
They have perhaps even a vague, and general design, 
to profit by it, and to be saved. But this design, is 
weak and superficial. It prevents them not from 
coming with little or no preparation. It does not 
preserve them from inattention, nor even from sleep- 
ing, when they should be hearing ; and after having 
heard, they forget what they have been hearing, and 
take no care to meditate upon it These are they 
whom I call, negligent hearers ! who, as well as 
others, hear and practice not. They hear without 
practising ; in hearing they understand not, their 
heart is estranged from what they hear; and after 
having heard a sermon, they scarcely know any thing 
of what has been said! They are a kind of statues, 
who have ears, but hear not. What dreadful supine- 
ness do they evidence, even in the manner of hearing ! 
They seem to have no interest in what is said. If we 
take notice of only one of our congregations, we may 
judge of this carelessness. Here we see some in pos- 
tures which evidence effeminacy — luke-warmness — 
want of attention; in another place we see others, 
fast asleep ; and many with wandering eyes, and dis- 
sipated looks, which they cast about in ail directions. 
But what is most general, is, that amongst those who 
hear, scarcely any one, by wise and conscientious re- 
flections, applies, what is said, to himself and to his 
conduct. Without this self-application, without these 
reflections, the word is altogether fruitless. We 
ought to say, in respect to each article of our sermons, 
do I believe this? do I practice this? have I this 
virtue ? have I these marks of true regeneration ? or, 
have I not this defect ? doth not this censure fall upon 
me ? But who doth this ? Scarcely any one dares 
view himself in the glass of the word : He never 

« 3 



230 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD* 

wishes to see any thing* there but the portrait of his 
neighbour. Our consciences would often say to us, 
as Nathan to David, " Thou art the man :" It is 
thou who art censurable : It is to thee, that the word 
is spoken. Instead of this, by a malicious perversion, 
we say to ourselves, this is the portrait of such an 
one; this character, exactly suits such a woman — 
such a miser — such a wicked man ; and we send to 
others, the dart which we ought to receive in our 
own heart. This voluntary negligence of self-exa- 
mination—of applying the exhortations — the censure 
■ — the instructions ; can produce only a miserable 
negligence with respect to correcting ourselves. Some 
there are who appear to make a little application ; 
they are affected, touched for a moment, but what is 
the result : they are negligent in self-examination 
after the sermon, and particularly, in pursuing this 
sdf-examination, and these reflections. When the 
sermon is finished, all is finished : Their ardor abates, 
their emotions pass away, " As the early dew, which 
ce is soon gone." Thus it is that we are hearers 
only. 

The third class of unfruitful hearers w T e call the 
<c 'prejudiced." I make use of this word, because I 
have not a more general one, to express my meaning. 
By this I mean all those who have any prejudice, or 
any particular passion of which they are prepossessed; 
which proves a hindrance to the word. There are 
two kinds of prepossessions ; those of the mind, and 
those of the heart : The pre-occupations of the mind, 
are, for instance, 1st, Errors, and false opinions, con- 
trary to what is preached. 2d!y. The prejudices 
which birth, education, the maxims of the world, may 
have excited in us against the truth. Sdly. Personal, 
and particular prejudices against the preacher. It 
must be confessed, that hearers, who are filled with this 



THE PRACTICE OE THE WORD. 231 



kind of prepossession, are seldom benefited by what 
they hear. The prejudices of the heart are still more 
common, and more dangerous. These are the pas- 
sions, and especially when they are predominant, and 
in their vigor. These are the thorns which choak 
the good seed, and prevent its bringing forth fruit. 
Aristotle, who taught morality, said, that he required 
auditors who were not vicious ; he excluded, even 
young men, because at this age, too much subject to 
the passions, they were too dissipated, to profit by his 
precepts. But, in order to receive the lessons of the 
morality of Jesus Christ, how much more need have 
we of auditors, free from vices, and disengaged from 
passions ? Those who are not such, hear us in vain ; 
they do not believe us ; or they only believe in a 
speculative manner, which is insufficient to gain their 
heart. Speak to the voluptuous, of mortification and 
denying himself — speak to the revengful, of render- 
ing good for evil — of forgiving his enemies, and 
loving them — speak to the covetous, of distributing 
his goods among the poor; and your word is to him 
as madness. 

This is the grand, and principal, object which 
causes men to lend an ear to the word, without put- 
ting it in practice. They are very willing to hear 
in general ; why ? because the passions are not op- 
posed to this : They lose nothing by it, when they 
come to church, and pay an hour's attention to the 
words which they hear delivered. But do you wish 
for more? do you require these men to renounce 
their false maxims — their intrigues — their vvorldly- 
mindedness — their wickedness — their covetousness ? 
You deceive yourselves, preachers ; they are only 
come to hear you, and not to divest themselves of 
their ill habits, or renounce what they love. No, no; 
they will assuredly retain their passions., which you 



232 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD 



would eradicate ; they will elude your remonstrances ; 
they will not go so far as to be doers. But we have 
said enough respecting a fault we must avoid, and 
the different kinds of men, who are guilty of it: Let 
us now see what St. James adds ; that a man de- 
ceives his own self, upon this subject, of hearing the 
divine word. cc Be not hearers only" saith he, (C de- 
" ceiving your own selves." The French version 
adds, in a parenthesis, (e By vain discourse." This 
is our second part. 



SECOND PART, 

^jFHE word, in the original Greek, signifies false 
reasoning, to deceive, by a sophistical argument. St. 
Paul makes use of the same term, to the Colossians, 
to point out the deception that one man may practice 
towards another: " Lest any man" saith he, " should 
" beguile you with enticing words" St. James ap- 
plies it to the impositions which a man makes on 
himself; and the French version, in order to express 
the whole force of the word, is not satisfied with 
saying, " Deceiving your oivn selves ;" but ff De~ 
Si ceiving your own selves, by vain discourse." It 
means the discourses which a man holds with him- 
self, which, strictly speaking, are our own secret 
reasonings. 

I will not tell you, in this place, my Brethren, that, 
in general, we are very liable to deceive ourselves in 
things of religion ; such as faith — repentance — the 
hope of salvation — the knowledge of our inward 
state. Tins is clear, both from scripture and expe- 
rience ; and it would be making" the subject too ge- 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD, 233 

neral ; I will only tell you that our heart deceives us 
by false principles, in which we abound, and by the 
false reasonings, which we fall into, in consequence 
of these principles. I apply this to the present occa- 
sion, of hearing and observing 1 the word. 

This is one of the first false principles, very com- 
mon among Christians; which is,, that the profession 
of Christianity will save us, and that this profession 
consists in uniting ourselves to certain congregations 
— in hearing the word — in partaking of the sacra- 
ments, and such things. To perform these duties 
properly, is, as they suppose, either, in a sense, suf- 
ficiently fulfilling the gospel, or that Jesus Christ 
will supply what is wanting ; and that what we shall 
make up in hearing, will be a kind of compensation 
for our deficiencies. Miserable illusion ! never shall 
one part of our duty, fulfilled, be able to compensate 
for the rest, which we have not fulfilled, or will not 
fulfil. The hearing of the word, and all other exte- 
rior exercises, are only the least part of our duty. 
But who can persuade himself, that the least part, 
accomplished, will supply the place of all the rest. 
It is not true, that the profession of the gospel can 
save us, if you mean an external profession, separate 
from true regeneration. Jesus Christ hath often 
combatted this delusion ; he tells us, that cc Not every 
"one that saith unto him, Lord, Lord, shall enter 
" into the kingdom of heaven.*' Who then shall ? 
iC He that doeth the will of his father." 

The sermons we have heard, will be a subject of 
condemnation, if they have not brought forth fruit in 
our actions. The more we shall have received, the 
more will be required of us. " That servant which 
" knew not his Lord's will, and prepared not him- 
" self, neither did according to his loill, shall be 



234 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



" beaten with many stripes. 3 ' It will be in vain for 
us to say, V Lord, we have frequented the holy assem- 
fc blies ; we have heard thy word:" Even that word, 
in which we have hoped, will condemn us. The dis- 
courses which we have heard, and of which we have 
made our boast, shall testify against us ; like the let- 
ter, which the unhappy Uriah carried, and which 
was the cause of his death/ But some will say, Jesus 
Christ shall save us, although we have not fulfilled 
his word : We are not saved by our works ; bring* 
us not back again to the covenant of works, or to 
our own righteousness ; we are saved only by the 
righteousness of our Lord — he shall supply, that 
which is deficient to us ; we are Christians — we have 
been baptized — attentive hearers of the word; the 
Son of God shall cover the rest. My Brethren, is it 
possible that we should deceive ourselves, by a rea- 
soning, so false and pernicious ? Is it possible that 
we should draw consequences so dreadful, from the 
great and solid truths of the gospel? We do not go 
back to the covenant of works : God preserve us 
from it I Our works, are imperfect — defective j it is 
always needful that the Saviour should cover them 
with his merit; we are saved by grace alone, and 
Christ is the only meritorious cause of our salvation. 
But where have you ever read, that the Lord will 
save us, without our observing his word ? Without 
our having any marks of regeneration ? Where have 
you ever heard that Christ will save us, if we have 
heard his gospel, without intending, at least, serious- 
ly to endeavour to practice his precepts ? No, no ; 
our divine Saviour supplies the defects of his children, 
but he does not supply, to daring rebels, the entire 
violation of his commandments. He pardons him, 
who hath not perfectly fulfilled his law, but he does 
not pardon him, who, by a voluntary negligence, hath 
had no inclination to observe his divine commands, 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 235 

A second principle, nearly allied to the former, 
is this ; if the simple profession of the gospel will 
not save us, yet, when we have light, and instruction, 
and the knowledge of the purest truths, it is reasona- 
ble to believe ourselves in a good state, in a state 
which is pleasing to God. But this is, nevertheless, 
self deception : The scriptures, it is true, every 
where commend knowledge ; but its meaning is, that 
this knowledge should be a light, like that of the sun, 
which warms, and animates, while it enlightens. 
Jesus Christ has said; cc If ye know these things, 
"happy are ye if ye do them." He does not say 
simply, happy are ye if ye know them ; but if ye 
know them, and do them. Theology is a practical 
science ; it is a science, which tends to make men, 
not simply learned, but good ; and it is necessary to 
take notice, that when the scriptures speak to us of 
"knowing;" this word includes a practical know- 
ledge, which signifies to taste, and to love. In ge- 
neral, whenever it alloweth any thing simply to 
knowledge, to hearing, and being persuaded by the 
word ; it means, that these things should be what 
they ought to be, in order to be good ; and that they 
should be accompanied with other Christian duties. 
By ee understanding," it means to understand well ; 
by C( knowing," to know well ; by ¥ hearing " to 
hear well: And what is it to comprehend well, to 
know well, to hear well ; if it be not to have all the 
dispositions to faith, and obedience, which God re- 
quires ? that which carries in itself, and in its conse- 
quences, the actual observance of what the w T ord says 
unto us. 

Let us go still further : Men deceive themselves, 
by a false idea of faith. They sometimes acknow- 
ledge it necessary, to believe the truth, and to ac- 
quiesce in it ; and, upon this, each one says, I believe 



236 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



this word, I assent to the truth of it, and the scrip- 
ture promises every thing to faith. But is it possible 
that an illusion, so many times combated, should still 
exist ? St. James, in this epistle, and the other sa- 
cred writers, have so often told us, that true faith, 
ought not to be, and cannot be, separate from re- 
pentance, and sanctification ; that this is even a con- 
firmation, and a proof, of the truth of our text ; and 
amounts to this ; that it is not enough to hear, simply 
to believe, that is, to admit some kind of approba- 
tion of the truth of the gospel ; but that it is neces- 
sary, to unite to faith, the observance, and practice, 
of what the word of God recommends to us. 

Finally, the last illusion, which men usually fall 
into, is, that they shall one day perform that word 
which they do not at present obey ; they wish always 
to hear it ; in hearing, they treasure up the truths, 
and precepts, in their memory ; in the same manner 
in which men lay up corn, and provisions, in reserve 
for some future day, although they will not touch 
them at present ; but, know you not, that this senti- 
ment is a dangerous error ? What would you say of 
a man, reduced to a skeleton — meagre — in the utmost 
extremity of want; who, instead of making use of 
the provisions he had collected, for his present, and 
immediate distress, should alwavs reserve them for 
future wants, and, in the mean time, suffer himself 
to die of hunger ? You will preserve the truth, that 
it may direct and nourish you at some future day; 
and your soul hath so much need of it at present ! O 
make use of it without delay I The manna, which 
was preserved, without being eaten every day, be- 
came corrupt ; the word in your memory, without 
passing into your heart, to be digested, and thus, so 
to speak, distributed, by practice, throughout all 
your members, corrupts, and becomes useless. Ex- 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 237 

pcrience teaches, that the truths which would have 
touched your hearts at first, which would have in- 
fluenced you, have at length no effect, in consequence 
of your being" accustomed to them • why do you defer 
to make the best of them ? When God speaks to us, 
it is his will that we should say, " Here am I 
when he saith unto us, " Go/' we should set out ; 
and as soon as he commands, we should obey. To 
defer is to disobey ; when he saith unto us repent, 
and we do not do it immediately, it is refusing what 
he requires. Let us not then deceive ourselves ; nor 
under pretence of what may be, satisfy ourselves with 
{c simply*' hearing the voice of God : Let us without 
delay be doers of the word. I come now to the ne- 
cessity, and the means, of obeying this apostolic ex- 
hortation : Which is to be our third part. 



THIRD PART. 

You clearly understand, my Brethren, that, to 
<c Be doers of the word/' is to live according to the 
precepts of this word, and to fulfil the just and holy 
duties of faith — love — prayer — obedience — benevo- 
lence ; which the word recommends to us : all which 
tend to convince you, that it is necessary to reduce to 
practice the things which the word ordains. This 
we have already shewn you : But that we may do it 
still more, consider, I pray you, in the first place, 
that the scripture gives us every where to understand, 
that the design of the gospel — of religion — of all the 
heralds of grace — of all preaching ; is to render men 
faithful and holy, and cause them to live, " Soberly, 
" righteously } and godly, in this present world." 
St Paul tells us, in the 2d, of Romans, that, t{ Not 



238 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



" the hearers of the law are just before God, but the 
" doers of the taw shall be justified." His design, in 
this place, is quite different from St. James's ; never- 
theless, it may be, as true of the gospel as of the law ; 
that not the hearers of the gospel, but the doers of it 
shall be justified. Jesus Christ hath endeavored to 
show us the same thing in the 7th. of Matthew, by 
the similitude of the man, who built upon the rock, 
and of him who built upon the sand. The first is he, 
" Who heareth the word, and doeth it " This is 
the prudent man — the wise man — the happy man ; 
who shall be preserved unshaken in the midst of 
temptations ; for nothing will abide the test like prac- 
tice. But he who hears the word without doing it, is 
an imprudent — a foolish man; who imagines he has 
a noble edifice of knowledge and faith ; but this edi- 
fice, feebly supported ; this knowledge of the gospel, 
which hath not penetrated within, and which hath 
not provoked the man to the actual observance of the 
word, is found too feeble to sustain this professor in 
the day of temptation. 

I entreat you to consider, in the second place, my 
Brethren, that he who hears the word without doing 
it, draws upon himself a greater, and more infallible 
condemnation. " It is sin" double sin, to him that 
knoweth to do good, and doeth it not. A Heathen 
may have some excuse in the day of judgment. <c I 
"did not know thy will/' he may say to the Sovereign 
Judge of the world ; " or I knew it but imperfectly; 
" thy word never reached to me. Ah ! if I had but 
heard it, I might perhaps have been converted/' But 
what excuse will a carnal professor have ? "I have 
"heard thy word," he may say, " butldidnotbelievethe 
"observance of it necessary. I thought it was snffi- 
"cienttohearit" "O! wretched man !" ShallGodthen 
say to him, "did I not sufficiently inform the% that it 



THE PRACTICE OP THE WORD. 239 



" must be put in practice/' What ? is it enough to hear 
the laws of holiness and charity, without obeying* 
them ? to hear the promises which are annexed to the 
conditions, without thinking* of setting yourselves to 
perform these conditions, and having 4 part in these 
promises ? Is this sufficient ? " The earth which 
" drinketh in the rain," saith St. Paul, in the 6th, 
of Hebrews, " And which beareth thorns and briers, 
" is rejected, and is nigh unto cursing, whose end 
" is to be burned." A soil is truly accursed, when 
the dew of the morning, the former and the latter 
rain, and the work of the laborers, cause it to produce 
nothing, or nothing but noxious herbs. What will 
be the consequence, but that the master will at last 
desist from employing his cares, about this ungrateful, 
and barren earth — that he will wholly forsake this 
bad ground — that he will leave it untilled — that he 
will permit the dragons, and w ild beasts of the desert, 
to feed upon it ; or, that he will cast the thorns and 
briers into the fire. God may say, with the greatest 
propriety, of these unfruitful hearers ; " What could 
" have been done more to my vineyard, that I have 
" not done in it ? Wherefore, when I Looked, that it 
"should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild 
"grapes?" 

After this, what can these hearers, who abuse the 
ministry, expect, but to be forsaken and cursed of the 
Lord ? In the first place, he shall leave them, gradu- 
ally, to the hardness of their heart, by a " judicial" 
desertion, which they have too justly merited. In 
the second place, the Lord shall take away from this 
bad soil, his laborers and his influence ; I mean, his 
ministers and the preaching of the word. O! dread- 
ful privation! O ! terrible malediction ! "You have 
"abused my word/' shall God say, in his wrath ; "you 
" have despised my ministers : You have heard, but 



240 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



you have -not practised. What then ? I will reduce 
you by a famine, worse than that of bread : Your 
children shall wander from sea to sea, to find the true 
bread of heaven. I will banish your ministers, and 
take away my candlestick from you ; then, ungrateful 
and barren earth, (< What wilt thou do ?" Thou 
shalt be cursed like the ss Mountains of Gilboa, 
"upon which neither rain nor dew descended; thou 
"shalt be cursed like the land of Sodom, and barren as 
" the desert countries, and as the sand of the sea This 
is what God often said in his anger : Behold ! what 
he has done in our days, for a whole nation, and we 
have seen and felt it. Ah ! what darkness is in 
our country ! What scarcity! what dreadful barren- 
ness ! At this time, how dearly sold, and sorrowfully 
regretted, are the sermons which were neglected ! 
Oh ! what a scene! to behold error and superstition, 
with their ministers, every where take the place of 
truth, and its ministers ! See, see, the fruit of the 
non-observers of the word! Finally, the last curse, 
which the barren earth draws upon itself, is the fire, 
<c Whose end is to be burned." After desertional 
hardness, frequently cometh, privation of the minis- 
try ; afterwards, still more frequently, followeth final 
impenitence; and to this, succeeds damnation. Ah! 
among the dreadful sufferings of men, eternally miser- 
able, this will not be one of the least, that they shall 
call to mind, that they have heard so many exhorta- 
tions ; that they have known what they have neglected 
to do ; and that they have perished by their own neg- 
lect, for having been unwilling to obey the truth 
which had been preached to them ! 

The last reflection which I entreat you to make is, 
that nothing is of greater utility, than being cc Doers 
" of the ivord." There is an abundant blessing for 
the good ground which bringeth forth fruit ;— " The 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 241 



u earth which drinketh in the rain, which cometh 
" oft upon it, and bringeth forth herbs, meet for 
" them by whom it is dressed, receiveth blessing 
"from God." God blesseth it, both in this life, and 
in the next. Yes, my Brethren, it is to the doers of 
the word; that all the promises of grace and glory are 
made : " To him that hath, God giveth." He adds 
new talents to him that improves the first : he grants 
an increase of grace — virtues — faith — knowledge — 
sanctification— consolation ; by means of his word 
and spirit ; to those who attentively hear this word, 
in order to practice it. 

We may add, that to be doers of this word, is the 
direct way to edify our neighbours — to glorify God — 
to render the doctrine of the gospel honorable, and to 
show to all around us, the efficacy of this heavenly 
doctrine which is preached to us. It is the way to 
grow in grace, to render piety easy, and to find in 
the word of God a sweetness, which they who are, 
hearers only, cannot taste. It is the means, and the 
only means, of enjoying solid peace of conscience, 
and a certain assurance of salvation. Not that this 
peace and assurance, are founded in the attention 
which we pay to the word ; they are founded upon 
the merit of Christ and his promises. But the ob* 
servance of the word, is the true character by whieh 
we may know that we are the children of God, re- 
generated, and in that state, in which we must be, tp 
partake of the good things which he hath promised 
us. Finally, the observance of the word is the mean§ ; 
and the only means, to be eternally blessed. It only 
now remains for me to offer you some advice, and 
assistance, to render you wise hearers, and faithful 
observers, of the word. With this \ shall conclude. 



8 



242 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 



CONCLUSION. 



WE have three general lessons to give you, m 
opposition to three defects, which we have pointed 
out to you. Would you profit by the word, and put 
it in practice ? be ye then, ct Sei^ious, wise, and up- 
"right" hearers, in opposition to curious hearers ; 
be "teachable" hearers, in opposition to the preju- 
diced ; be " diligent/ 3 in opposition to the negligent. 

I call those hearers serious, wise, and upright, who 
principally seek, in sermons, for that which will be 
useful to faith and practice ; who hear them with a 
serious intention to profit by them ; who come to 
hear the word to be convinced — instructed — directed 
—comforted, by it : In a word, who have a good end 
in view, an upright intention in hearing. Far from 
you be the mere desire of knowing only what tends 
to your own glory ; or, which exclusively satisfies 
your curiosity. In vain you will say, what an excel- 
lent sermon, if you do not say it in reference to the 
profit you wish to derive from it, the best praise of 
your ministers is to practice their instructions, by 
which you will be their joy and their crown. After 
all, who is Paul — who is A polios — who is Cephas ! 
Are we not all ministers of Jesus Christ, and " Your 
" servants for Jesus 3 sake. 33 Do not waste your 
time in esteeming gifts and persons : go straight to 
God, give him your heart — your faith — your obedi- 
ence " We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus 
" the Lord/ 3 and we seek your salvation. The Sa- 
viour could not bear with the zealous woman, who, 
transported with admiration at his person; cried out, 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 243 

tr Blessed is the womb that bear thee, and the paps 
(C which thou hast sucked!" Although she was in 
the rights and Jesus Christ was worthy of all possible 
admiration, yet, because she rested in the admiration 
of his person, and in what she observed extraordinary,, 
in the happiness and glory of the mother of such a 
son, instead of receiving, and practising, his doctrine, 
he corrected her with these w r ords, " Yea, rather 
f( blessed are they who hear the word of God, and 
" keep it." Christians, what other interest have we, 
but that of saving ourselves, and you with us ! Per- 
haps in the prime of youth the desire of reputation, 
occupies, too much, the mind of him who preaches : 
Perhaps, in a more advanced age, the preacher is not 
sufficiently clear in this respect, not sufficiently dis- 
engaged from these human motives ; but may not 
both preachers and people correct themselves in this ? 
Let men come, who are mighty in the scriptures. 
Apolloses, full of eloquence and fire, who improve upon 
their predecessors ; who, by new terms, new methods 
of preaching, endeavor, without altering any thing 
of the truth and the simplicity of the gospel, to reani- 
mate languishing hearts, and to attract the minds of 
the curious, so as to win their souls to the obedience 
of Christ. Glory be unto God ! we will not be jea- 
lous of them, we wish we were like them ! But 
nevertheless, beware here, lest it should be the love 
of novelty and curiosity, by which you are actuated, 
rather than that of piety. You perhaps esteem those 
exceedingly happy, who, in days of old, were per- 
mitted to hear the preaching of a Chrysostom, or a 
Paul ; or rather of Jesus Christ himself, in the days 
of his flesh. You also would probably have run to 
hear him, and that would have been all ; but know 
that, " Rather blessed are they that hear the toora) 
" of God, and keep it," by whomsoever it may be 
preached. When we hear sermons from curiosity only, 

ft % 



244 THE PRACTICE OP THE WORD. 



we return home almost always empty ; the preacher 
seldom satisfies us, sometimes! he disgusts us, after- 
wards we proceed io criticise upon him; we are dis- 
gusted with his sermons: from a disgust of the sermon 
and minister, we often pass to that of the truth itself. 
Good God ! we find ourselves at last quite empty, or 
but little advanced ! In a word, Christians, the things 
which we propose to you are such, that we ourselves 
destroy them, if we propose them too much on that 
side which excites curiosity. And you spoil them, 
and absolutely pervert the use of them, if you only 
hear them in the same spirit. Ah ! the things we 
propose to you are not indifferent ; not things in 
which you are uninterested, they concern you, and 
are unto you of the greatest importance. When a 
man returns from a long journey, and recites what he 
has seen, he is attended to, and the greater part hear 
him merely from motives of curiosity ; but if any one 
intends to undertake the same journey, to conduct in 
this remote country, the same negociations which 
this traveller has successfully executed ; in that case, 
this man endeavors particularly to understand him 
who speaks ; he questions him, he writes down his 
course — his roads; he notices the dangers against 
which he will have to guard — what sums of money 
will be necessary — what articles of commerce it will 
be best to import into the country. We speak to you 
of heaven, or rather, J esus Christ speaks of it, by our 
mouth. This is u country to which you profess yoa 
wish to go : Ah ! you should not then hear from 
mere curiosity, but with a real, and fixed design, to 
make use of all that you hear for your journey. If 
you do this, there is no doubt that you will pass from 
hearing to practising. 

The second piece of advice, my Brethren, which 
we are to give you, is, to cc -Be teachable," Would 



THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 245 



you profit by hearing 1 the word, so as to put it in 
practice, have, in hearing that excellent disposition, 
called "Docility;" and which I here opp$sfe to 
prejudice. All masters, require in their servants, 
docility, because they can make no impression 
upon a haughty, self-conceited, prejudiced spirit. 
But we require of you this docility, in a far higher 
sense than is generally understood by the world ; I 
mean by this, what the apostle means by meekness, 
" receive," saith he, <c with meekness the ingrafted 
" word;" i.e. with that humility — submission — calm- 
ness of soul — tranquillity — freedom from passion and 
prejudice, which it requires. What will the word 
profit you, if you hear it with a spirit of pride and 
contradiction, in order to combat our reason, and set 
yourselves against our advice. Besides this, let us, 
my Brethren, be as free and exempt from prejudice, 
as possible, if we wish to profi*. Let us not set our- 
selves against either the doctrines, or the persons, who 
preach to us. The disposition of a reasonable soul, 
should be this, always to hearken to truth and righte- 
ousness — to believe right reason — to yield to the force 
of proof, by whomsoever, in other respects, it may be 
presented to us. How many men are incurable in 
their errors, and false opinions, because they are so 
infatuated, and obstinate, that they will never hear 
reason ; are never tranquil in receiving the truth, and 
are, as if they had made oath, never to suffer them- 
selves to be deceived. A Christian should be of ano- 
ther spirit, always ready to give glory to God, and to 
yield to the truth ; different from those Pharisees, 
who only sought their own glory, and who resisted 
the spirit of God, and the convictions of their own 
consciences. The disposition of a prudent roan, in 
reference to the persons who preach, is to endeavor, 
never to be prejudiced against them. The servants 
of God are distressed, when those, to whom they 

r 3 



I 



2 16 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 

preach the gospel, look upon them, as Ahab looked 
upon the prophet Micaiah: cc He could not endure 
" him/' Micaiah was the object of his hatred. The 
bad opinion that we have of a physician, may cause us 
to reject a very good prescription. Prejudice against 
ministers, sometimes closes the heart against the 
truths they teach. 

Let us then take care, not to permit ourselves to 
be unhappily prepossessed. Above all, my Brethren, 
the docility which we require of you, is to be calm 
and tranquil, with respect to the passions; to be ex- 
empt, and free, from those fleshly lusts, which always 
revolt against the word. Do not tell me, that if you 
were exempt from them, you would have no more 
need of preaching; for you have need, not only to be 
freed from all vices, but to practice various virtues. 
You have to take heed, lest you fall — to build up 
yourselves — to increase in holiness. But then, we 
do not require you to be destitute of passions; we 
only require, that you do not come with your pas- 
sions chafed, and in violent irritation ; a state in which 
you are not capable of reasoning, or hearing. Come 
at least in a sedate state, in which you are not dis- 
posed to plead against us by your vices, but in which 
you are disposed to deliver them up, and to condemn 
them, to be put to death by the sword of God's word. 
Then you will see that the word heard, will make an 
impression; and, with this happy docility, you will 
say to God, "Lord, what zoilt thou have me to do ?" 
and you will think upon executing that which you 
say. 

My Brethren! our last advice is, be diligent in 
well doing. Woe unto the idle! Woe unto those 
negligent souls, who hear all their lives, and do no- 
thing ! O ! how dreadful ! to suffer to escape so many 



THE PRACTICE OE THE WORD* 247 

years — so many sermons ; to be always in the school 
of Christ, without advancing. What a disgrace to 
us, to be like our children, when they lose their time 
with their masters, and make no improvement ! Be- 
lievers, our diligence ought to remedy all our ordinary 
failings, relative to the word ; our diligence should 
consist, in preparing ourselves, before we come to 
hear. Without preparation, scarcely any thing will 
succeed. The earth does not receive the corn well, 
if it be not previously prepared ; and our heart will 
not receive the word properly, if we do not open it, by 
meditation, reading, and prayer ; our diligence should 
appear in our attention to the word of God in his 
house. Let us dismiss all distractions ; let us consi- 
der, that we are in the presence of God, and that we 
must render an account of the sermons we hear. It 
is necessary, that we apply ourselves with more dili- 
gence, to treasure up, and to meditate upon, what we 
have heard. I can but just touch upon all these 
things; our diligence ought, moreover, to consist of 
imploring grace, by ardent and assiduous prayer. In 
a word, our diligence consists in passing immediately, 
withouf delay, from hearing, to practice, in examin- 
ing ourselves upon each article delivered to us, and in 
exerting new efforts, upon every sermon, to practice 
something which has been delivered to us, or to prac- 
tice it more perfectly than before. Have they spoken 
to us upon faith ? Let us examine whether it is ours. 
Have they traced the characters of regeneration? Let 
us see if we find them in ourselves. Have they 
spoken of a vice ? Let us endeavor to forsake it im- 
mediately. Have they spoken of a virtue ? Let us 
enquire, without delay, can I perform some part of 
it to-day — to-morrow ! If men would believe us; if 
in every sermon we could gain some ground; if 
every time of preaching, caused us to advance a little 
on the side of faith — love — repentance — -obedience ; 



248 THE PRACTICE OF THE WORD. 

! how happy should we esteem ourselves in making 
some progress ! My God ! O that thy word was hap- 
pily observed ! and that your exhortations, servants of 
the Lord, might produce fruit ! May he who giveth 
the increase, when " Paul planteth, and Apollos 
(s watereth " give us all grace to pursue this course ; 
that after we have been " Doers of the word/' we 
may obtain the eternal reward ; which God hath pro- 
mised to his faithful servants! AMEN. 



THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 
PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 

SERMON IX. . 

John, v Chap. 36 Verse. 

(< But 1 have greater witness than that of John; for 
the works that my Father hath given me to finish, 
the same works that I do, bear witness of me, that 
the Father hath sent me." 

My Brethren, 

The Jews and Heathens are not deceived, in be- 
lieving, that the Messiah, the Son of God, upon his 
coming into the world, was to make himself known by 
evident marks, and to shew who he was by illustrious 
and sensible evidences, without which they could not 
have been condemned for not receiving him. But 
they are deceived in expecting these characters to 
consist in an exterior brilliancy, in pomp, or in actions 
resembling those which constitute the glory of the 
kings of this world, as if he could not have any thing 
more eminent, more divine, than that vain and tran- 
sient glory which riches, dignities, and worldly crowns 
bestow ; and as if he could not perform actions more 



250 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 



useful, and more glorious, than the bloody exploits of 
princes and conquerors. 

Celsus, that famous enemy of Christianity, said, 
that the Son of God should have resembled the sun, 
who, while he enlightens all other things, manifests 
himself first by his own light. He was, in some sense, 
right. And, truly, Jesus Christ evidenced himself to 
be the Son of God, by marks more noble, less equivo- 
cal, and more worthy of himself, than all those which 
the Jew and the Gentile could have imagined the 
most pompous and brilliant. This sun was not so 
cnve?oped > in the cloud which appeared to cover him, 
as to prevent his splendour from piercing through it, 
and manifesting itself in the midst of his apparent 
baseness. (C We have seen his glory, the glory as 
(< of the only -begotten of the Father." The glory 
of his miracles was such, that it should have dissipated 
the prejudices of the Jews, silenced their scandal, 
and justified the saying, that it was truly he " Who 
iC should come into the world'' Miracles are, un- 
doubtedly, more glorious, and more divine, than all 
that men are able to do, however great: Yes, to com- 
mand all nature — the winds — the sea — men — devils 
—angels — death— is a privilege transcendently pre- 
ferable to that of commanding armies or people. 
Thus, my Brethren, he sufficiently discovered, on va- 
rious occasions, that his miracles evidently proved his 
mission, and his divinity ; and if the Jews, after such 
proofs were still either incredulous, or obstinately op- 
posed to what they saw in him, it was their own fault. 
It was on this account, that in our text, among others, 
he said to them, " I have greater witness than that 
' c of John ; for the works that my Father hath given 
" me to finish, the same works that I do, bear wit- 
" ness of me, that the Father hath sent me." Our 
Lord, in this chapter, proves that he is the Messiah, 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 



251 



by four witnesses ; that of John, that of God the Fa- 
ther speaking from heaven, that of Moses and the 
scriptures, and that of his own miracles, which he 
calis ff A greater witness than that of John." 

If we were to follow these witnesses, one after the 
other, we should be able to trace to their source, all 
the proofs of this fundamental truth of Christianity, 
that Jesus, the Nazarene, is the promised Messiah. 
But to day our design is to endeavor to discover to 
you, that the miracles of our Lord are an incontes- 
tible proof of this truth. We have thought this sub- 
ject worthy of our most serious attention : and in order 
to treat it properly, we shall divide our discourse into 
two principal parts. In the first, we shall give the 
sense of the text. We shall shew you why Jesus 
Christ fixes upon his miracles, in order to prove his 
mission, and why he needed this sort of witness. In 
the second, we shall examine the miracles of our Sa- 
viour, and endeavor to shew you how the works that 
he did, have evidently proved that he was the Mes- 
siah, May God condescend to bless our discourse! 
AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 



Jl Have greater witness than that of John," saith 
the Lord. Far from invalidating, by this, the testi- 
mony that John the Baptist had borne of him, he sup- 
poses that it was great, certain, and worthy of credit. 
In effect, the person who had given it was altogether 
extraordinary : a man promised and described by the 
ancient oracles; a singular and sublime privilege: 
a man miraculous in his birth, and altogether distin- 



252 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 



guished in his life: a man generally acknowledged 
as a prophet. The historian Josephus records the 
esteem in which the Jews held bftfti, and tells us that 
Herod would not have put him in prison, if he had 
not feared the too great influence that he had over 
the people. A testimony coming from such a person, 
cannot but be very forcible, and very advantageous, 
to Jesus Christ. In other respects, the testimony was 
considerable by the manner in which John the Baptist 
had delivered it. He had given it, both before he had 
seen the Lord, and after he had baptized him. He 
had given it, not only in the presence of the multi- 
tude, but even when he was interrogated by a solemn 
deputation, he rendered it in the strongest terms, by 
exalting Jesus Christ infinitely above himself. Final- 
ly, he made these declarations, after having seen the 
heavens opened over the head of the Saviour, and the 
Holy Ghost descending upon him, and having heard 
the voice which cried, C( This is ?ny beloved Son /" 
All this, without doubt, rendered his testimony as au- 
thentic, as possible. At the same time, Jesus Christ 
saith, that he hath greater witness than that of John; 
meaning by this, his own miracles. In effect, the 
miracles were a greater witness in two respects. First, 
in reference to the Jews, who were accustomed to re- 
quire signs, and to judge of the extraordinary voca- 
tions of the prophets by the supernatural things which 
they had wrought. Miracles had ceased, for a long time, 
in Israel. John the Baptist himself had not wrought 
any, as is remarked in the 10th. chapter of this gospel. 
God had thus ordained it, to the end that Jesus Christ, 
having then alone the glorious privilege of performing 
them, no one might doubt which was the Messiah, he, 
or John the Baptist. Secondly, the miracles were, in 
themselves, a greater witness than the testimony of 
the forerunner; because, while the declarations of 
John were merely external, an approbation which came 



PROOFS OP HIS MISSION. 



253 



from without, the power with which Jesus Christ per- 
formed his miracles, was a thing attached even to his 
person, a thing resident in him, which raised him much 
higher, and which appeared to be a seal still more au- 
thentic, according to what Nicodemus said, " No man 
ts can do these ?niracles which thou doest, except God 
" be with him" An outward testimony, however true, 
and however worthy of credit it might be in other 
respects, was not to be compared to this. 

Jesus Christ expressly tells us, that the witness 
which he hath, is, the works that the Father had given 
him to finish. One might imagine that it is necessary 
to understand by this, all the works of his ministry and 
ceconomy, his preaching, his miracles, his acts of holi- 
ness and righteousness, and even his sufferings and his 
death. These were, in effect, the works which his 
Father had given him to do — works pointed out in 
the ancient scriptures, necessary to confirm his doc- 
trine, to save the human race, and which fully prove 
that he was sent by the Father. But we must under- 
stand here, more particularly, his miracles; these 
were properly the works which gave a shining testi- 
mony to his mission, and which ought to have already 
convinced the Jews. The others were not so striking, 
neither were they yet accomplished. Moreover, they 
are the miracles which he often elsewhere calls "His 
** works/' as in the 10th. chapter of this gospel : " The 
" works that I do in my Fathers name, they bear 
" witness of me." And in the 15th, " If I had not 
" done among them the works which none other man 
" did, they had not hid sin: but now they have no 
" cloak for their sin" 

But why was it needful that he should be furnished 
with this witness ? It was so for many very important 
reasons. First, he was to present himself to the 



254 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 



Jews, a people accustomed to miracles, and prcdigie§, 
who preferred this kind of proofs to all those of rea- 
soning 1 ff The Jews require a sign, and the Greeks 
<c seek after wisdom," saith St. Paul. The Greeks 
loved the discourses, the sophistry, -the reasonings of 
philosophy; but the Jews rather preferred seeing' 
wonders, and were much more easily persuaded by 
them : <e Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will 
* f not believe/ 3 They often demanded them with 
importunity; and it was an opinion current among 
them, that when the Messiah should come, he would 
work many miracles ; this appeared, among others, by 
what they sard in the 7th. of this gospel. '* When 
" Christ cometh will he do more miracles than those , 
ec which this man hath done ?" It was necessary 
then, in order to lead them to believe, to accommo- 
date himself to their prejudices, to make them see, 
that according to their own principles, they had a 
sufficient witness. 

The second reason. It had been the ordinary 
method of God to confirm, by miracles, the authority 
of his servants on important and extraordinary occa- 
sions. God, who is the Lord of nature, who hath 
established the laws, and motions, of nature, never 
suspends this established order, but upon subjects of 
great consequence. But when he is moved to stem 
the torrent of impiety in the world, to vindicate reli- 
gion, to defend the church, to re-establish the truth 
which has been corrupted, to make any considerable 
alteration in his worship, or some important addition 
to Revelation ; then, infinitely free, as well as infi- 
nitely powerful, this great God hath not failed to 
work some miracle capable of producing such won- 
derful effects, or of confirming the authority of those 
whom he sent. Thus he wrought, time after time, 
divers wonders in favor of the patriarchs, when he 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 



255 



separated their families from the rest of the world. 
Thus Moses was confirmed in his vocat ion, and proved 
his authority by a great number of prodigies. Thus 
divers prophets, raised up in an extraordinary manner 
to reform Israel, in times of very great corruption, 
were authorised by miracles ; Elijah in particular. 
Since this was the constant practice of God, there 
was reason to expect that he would not be wanting 
on the most important occasion of all, in which his 
intention was to confirm the authority of a person, 
infinitely above all others. This all-wise Being, who 
is never wanting in things necessary ; this eternal 
Father, who had the honor of his Son so much at 
heart ; would he do less in his favor, than in that of 
a Moses or an Elijah ? 

The third reason. The things that Jesus Christ 
wished to make the world receive, and the manner in 
which he would have them believe, necessarily re- 
quired that he should prove the truth of what he 
affirmed. When things are altogether new, and 
above human reason ; when the mind of man cannot 
attain to the discovery of them, by the common way 
of reasoning, it is necessary, in order to fully believe 
them, to be convinced that God himself teaches 
them i or, which is the same thing, that he who 
teaches them, teaches us on God's behalf; what can- 
not appear clear to us, but when he who speaketh, 
confirms what he saith by works altogether divine. 
The things that Jesus Christ wished to teach were 
new, incredible, contrary to ihe prejudices of men, 
and particularly to those of the Jews. Never had 
any prophet appeared to teach such things ! it was 
for Jesus Christ that was reserved the revelation of 
the most profound mysteries, before unknown, or 
very little discovered. It was for him that was re- 
served the establishment of a perfect religion, The 



256 THE MIRACLES OF JtSVS CHRIST, 



worship of the old testament was, in many things, 
conformed to the gross and carnal inclinations of 
man; but Jesus Christ came to announce a doctrine 
altogether spiritual; a religion sublime and pure, 
which yielded not to the base inclinations, and cor- 
ruptions, of the human heart : Which destroyed the 
worldly hopes of the Jew, and the false wisdom of 
the Greek; which requires us to renounce ourselves. 
How should they believe ail these things, and hear 
the teacher who announced them, if he did not pro- 
duce evidences of a divine power? 

Finally. He is not willing that w r e should imper- 
fectly unite ourselves to Turn ; that we should be only, 
" Almost persuaded to be Christians;" that we should 
receive his gospel as a thing 1 merely probable, and in 
an uncertain manner. He is willing that we should 
fully embrace his doctrine ; that we should believe it 
so, as to suffer and die for it. He is that prophet, of 
whom it is said, in the 1 8th. of Deuteronomy, that 
5 f God shall require it at his hands, who will not 
tc hear him;" and of whom St. Peter says, in Acts, 
the 3d. chap. " That every soul which will not hear 
" that prophet, shall be destroyed from among the 
" people." How could they be obliged to believe 
him under such a penalty ? How could they be pu- 
nished for not having given credence to that which 
be has taught and commanded us? How could they 
be obliged to believe his doctrine, so as to die for it, 
if God had not authorized this great prophet, in an 
extraordinary manner, and if he had not given the 
strongest proofs of his mission? 

We may add, in the fourth place, that not only the 
things which he was to teach, but those which he 
was himself to perform— to fulfil ; necessarily required 
that he should employ a miraculous power. He came 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 257 



to abolish the ceremonial law; he could not have had 
this pretence, without doing works, at least, equally 
as miraculous, as those which Moses had done, in or- 
der to establish that law. He came to " Destroy the 
fc works of the Devil." It was necessary then, that 
he should overcome him by his divine works of power 
and might, which should make Satan fall, as light- 
ning", from heaven; i. e. which should make him 
lose that authority, which he had acquired in the 
world. C( How can one enter into a strong mans 
fC house, and spoil his goods, except he first bind the 
sc strong man ? And how shall he bind the strong 
x (c man, if he be not stronger than he ?" Satan was 
the strong man, the world was the house of which he 
appeared to be the master; it was necessary to bind 
him, in order to take away his captives, and the goods 
which he had unjustly appropriated ; and how could 
Jesus Christ bind him, without suppressing his power, 
by his own, without destroying his deceptions, and 
his false miracles, by the true miracles which he 
wrought, and which he caused to be wrought by his 
apostles? tt was then necessary, that Jesus Christ 
should work miracles, in order to overcome Satan ; to 
abolish the ceremonial law; to cause himself to be 
received as the promised Messiah ; to authorize his 
divine mission ; to cause his gospel to be embraced 
with a full assurance of faith ; and to cause men to 
believe the new and difficult articles of his doctrine^ 
and his morality, to which they would never have 
been subject without it, 

I know that the purity, the sublimity, the excel- 
lency of his doctrine, the admirable connection of the 
principles which he taught, were sufficient to convince 
the conscience. I know that the admirable holiness 
of his life, his meekness, his patience, were also a 
brilliant description of what he was ; but, after all if 



258 THE MIRACLES OP JESUS CHRIST, 



these were characters which are essential to the Son 
of God, nevertheless they were not such as were alone 
sufficient to convince mankind. A sublime doctrine, 
and eminent virtue; whatever esteem they may at- 
tract, do not oblige us to believe that a man is infalli- 
ble in what he says. I am farther convinced, that 
the perfect conformity between Jesus Christ, and the 
portraits which the prophets have drawn of the Mes- 
siah, is one indubitable proof, that he is the Christ ; 
but I see, by this same thing, that he was to work di- 
vine miracles, without which he would have failed in 
one of the characters marked in the prophets. For 
instance, it was said in the 35th. of Isaiah, speaking- 
of the deliverance which God was to grant to his peo- 
ple: <c He shall come himself, and save you. Then 
ec the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears 
C( of the deaf shall be unstopped. Then shall the 
" lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the 
" dumb sing." It is true, that these words have a 
mystical sense, representing that at the coming of the 
Christ of God, the understanding of sinners, natu- 
rally blind, should be enlightened, and that their spi- 
rits should yield to the truth. Christ hath fulfilled this 
oracle, both in the mystical and literal sense : he hath 
healed both the soul and the body. The Jews also, 
undoubtedly, understood these words literally, since it 
is said in the ancient records. " When the Messiah 
tc shall come, he shall open the eyes of the blind." 
Our Lord most assuredly alluded to this oracle, when he 
answered the disciples of John, in Matt. 11. "Go and 
" shew John again those things which ye do hear and 
" see ; the blind receive their sight, and the lame 
" walk — the deaf hear." It was then necessary 
that Jesus Christ should work miracles, to give to 
ancient predictions their full accomplishment, and 
to have, in himself, all the evidences promised to the 
Messiah. 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 



259 



Here a considerable difficulty presents itself. If it 
was necessary, for so many reasons, that Jesus Christ 
should work miracles, the Jews did not do wrong in 
requiring them, as they often did. At the same time, 
the Lord frequently repulsed and blamed them. He 
said unto them in Matt, 16. (C A wicked and adulterous 
f e generation seeketh after a sign, and there shall no 
1 cc sign be given unto it, but the sign of the prophet 
"Jonas." And it is remarked in Mark 8th. that 
this demand, which they made, caused him cc To 
cc sigh deeply in his spirit." My Brethren, Jesus 
Christ did not contradict himself, although with the 
greatest propriety, he alledged the miraculous works 
which he did, as a sufficient proof of what he said, 
and as an authentic seal added to his letters of au- 
thority • this did not prevent his reproof to the Jews 
on certain occasions, when not satisfied with what he 
had done, they were desirous that he should be unne- 
cessarily lavish of his miracles, and required signs 
only from bacTmotives. It was also for other reasons, 
drawn from particular circumstances, that, on certain 
occasions, he forbid the publishing of some of the 
miracles he had wrought, or the publishing of them 
at that time, or to all people. It is evident, that his 
miracles were wrought, in order to be known ; and it 
was necessary that he should do them. And truly, 
he hath done what was sufficient, and of such kinds 
as were necessary, to give ample testimony of him, ac- 
cording to what he saith in this place: " The same 
" works that I do, bear witness of me, that the Fa- 
" ther hath sent me." But after he had wrought so 
many miracles, why did they still require them ? They 
were desirous, they said, " To see a sign from hea- 
" ven;" i. e. something like what took place at the 
publication of the law, of lightning and thunder com- 
ing from the heavens : or they wished he would cause 
the manna to descend from heaven, as Moses had 

§ 2 



260 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 

done. These demands were imprudent, and unrea- 
sonable : for the miracles that Jesus Christ wrought 
were more agreeable to his design, of rendering him- 
self useful to men, of convincing them, and comfort- 
ing them, by wonders of a benevolent nature, than 
lightnings and thunders like those from Sinai. These 
thunderings were proper for that dispensation ; these 
kinds of terrible miracles, necessary to restrain Israel 
from idolatry, were, in other respects, applicable to 
the rigor of the law. But the miracles of Jesus 
Christ must accord with the mildness of his gospel. 
Why should he cause the manna to fall from heaven ? 
What he had done, when he fed the multitudes with 
a few loaves, was not less admirable ; and the present 
state of the Jews no longer needed, that manna 
should descend from heaven, because they were no 
longer in the wilderness. God never works miracles, 
without necessity ; never does he work them merely 
for pomp, or to satisfy the mere curiosity, or caprice, 
of men. You see then why Jesus Christ would not 
work the miracles requested, and why he sometimes 
refused them to the Jews. You see also why God 
now no longer does it to satisfy the desires of the cu- 
rious, or the profane. Let it be evident, that there is 
a necessity for God to do it; an absolute necessity; a 
subject which absolutely requires that the Supreme 
Being should, by prodigies, interrupt the ordinary 
course of things, and then be astonished if he does it 
not. Finally ; when Jesus Christ refused the Jews, 
because their demands were unjust, and inconsistant, 
he referred them to his resurrection, as the best re- 
medy for their unbelief, and the greatest of all signs. 
Let us now see how the miracles of Jesus Christ have 
proved his mission. This is our second part. 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 261 



SECOND PART. 

My Brethren, God can neither lie, nor approve of 
lying ; consequently it is inconceivable how he should 
work true miracles in favor of an impostor, or cause 
impostors to be believed. It is impossible that he 
should lend his authority to a man, to enable him to 
do wonders, contrary to the ordinary laws of nature, 
and above the power of a created being, with any 
other design than that of confirming truth, and truth 
of the utmost importance. Otherwise men might 
say ; " Lord, if we are deceived, thou has deceived 
" us." It was according to this principle of common 
sense, which was acknowledged by the Jews, that the 
man whose eyes were opened, reasoned in favor of 
Jesus against the synagogue in John, 9th. chap. 
This history is very remarkable. The Jews said to 
this man, that with regard to Moses, whose disciples 
they were, they knew that God had spoken to him : 
rc But as for this Jesus/' said they, cc we know not 
tc whence he is/ 3 i. e. they did not recognise his mis- 
sion, nor the authority by which he came, spoke, and 
acted. V Why, herein is a marvellous thing// an- 
swered the poor man, "that ye know not from whence 
" he is, and yet he hath opened mine eyes ! Now zoe 
"know that God heareth riot sinners; but if any man 
" he a worshipper of God, and doeth his will, him he 
<( heareth.. 3 ' Meaning, that if this man were a sinner, 
an impostor, as you say he is ; if he falsely pretended 
to have a commission from heaven, can we suppose 
that God would assist him so miraculously ? We know 
by our law, that God grants the privilege of working 
true miracles only to his servants, and not to men who 
wish to turn us away from his service ; but if any one 



262 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 

who worships the true God, and who does not seek to 
draw his people into idolatry, worketh miracles to con- 
firm what he advances, we are obliged to believe him. 
Since the world began, was it " not heard that any 
(C man opened the eyes of one that was born blind." 
Behold a miracle truly divine and incontestible ! 
Moses, and all the prophets, have not done a greater, 
and we have not learned that they ever did the same 
miracle. ce If this man were not o f God, he could do 
" nothing." If he did not come from the Lord, if he 
had not received from the Almighty the power that 
he hath, he could not perform tilings so divine. See 
how, in following the principles of reason, and the 
Icflf, this man knew that the miracles of Jesus Christ 
bore witness of him! Not that he, directly, acknow- 
ledged him for the Messiah ; but he found that his 
works attested, at least, that he was sent of God, and 
that he was a true prophet. 

Here I cannot, without astonishment, think of the 
impudence of a famous * modern infidel, who hath 
dared to deny the possibility of miracles. It requires 
a great degree of infatuation, and effrontery, to con- 
tradict certain principles, founded upon the common 
reason of mankind ; upon the consent of all people, 
and upon universal tradition. One of these principles 
is, (hat, " God being sovereignly free, can act as he 
£( pleases/' and do all things in nature which are be- 
yond all the powers of natural agents. All people 
have acknowledged this ; if they have been some- 
times deceived by taking false miracles for true ones, 
it is still certain, that miracles have been generally 
held as possible with God ■ and never would false 
ones have been believed in, if there had not been 
some true, which had convinced them that the author 
of all things, sometimes suddenly produces super- 
natural effects. It requires, above all, a great degree 

* Spinoza. 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 263 

-of impudence to give the lie, equally, to the histories 
of Jews and Christians, and to deny the things at- 
tested by so many witnesses. It is in vain to say, 
ff that God acts in a manner necessary • the laws of 
<c nature are immutable ; if God were to interrupt and 
cc change them by miracles, he w r ould contradict him- 
" self— his power would combat his power/' These are 
false principles, sufficiently refuted by experience, by 
matters of fact, by miracles which have actually taken 
place. God acts as a free agent ; he can act without 
means, otherwise he could not have created the world, 
because he did not create it by means, nor by follow- 
ing what is called the laws of nature, which were not 
established. The Supreme Being does not contradict 
himself by acting in various ways; but by so doing, he 
sets forth the extent of his infinite power. 

But some may say, what are called miracles, are 
perhaps no other than singular events, which arise 
from certain latent causes, and in consequence of cer- 
tain laws of nature, which are unknown to us. I 
confess that some events, which appear to us extra- 
ordinary, and miraculous, may sometimes be of this 
kind. I mean things which take place simply by the 
laws of nature which are hidden from us But this 
could have no place in the miracles of Moses, of Jesus 
Christ, and of his apostles ; for they performed them 
when they would, upon subjects which they did not 
very often select, but which were presented to them: 
They did them, for the most part, instantaneously. 
But could Jesus Christ, and his apostles, know that 
these events would take place exactly at the appointed 
period when they ordained them, if the causes, which 
produced them, were hidden ?. How could they sus- 
pend the moments of these events, and renew them 
all at once ? It is then the greatest of absurdities, as 
well as the height of impiety, to entertain doubts whe- 



64 *THE MIRACLES OF JEStJS CtlRlST^ 



ther there have ever been true miracles. Here, my 
Brethren, another difficulty may be started, which is 
more reasonable ; to which it appears that the scrip* 
ture itself hath given place. There are, some will 
say, divine miracles ; but how shall we discern them 
from lying miracles ; and how Can miracles, in them- 
selves, be a sufficient testimony of the mission of Jesus 
Christ, since the scriptures inform us, that false pro- 
phets and antichrists should be able to do, and should 
in reality do, signs and wonders ? Moses declares it, 
in Deut. 13th. Jesus Christ himself predicts it, in 
Matt. 24th. and St. Paul, in 2 Thess. hath said it of 
f{ The coming of the wicked one." Is it not also 
known, that many impostors have done things which 
appeared inexplicable by philosophy ? and since there 
are malignant spirits, it is very difficult to determine 
how far they may be permitted to go, and, conse- 
quently, to distinguish true from false miracles. How 
then can miraculous works, in our esteem, be a suffi* 
cient confirmation of the truth ? In order to solve 
this difficulty, my Brethren, I answer, without hesita- 
tion, that when Jesus Christ maintained, and when 
we also maintain, that <c His miracles are a sufficient 
tf proof of his mission;" we do not intend to say that 
the furious obstinacy of some men cannot bring for- 
ward some pitiful objections against his miracles, and 
endeavor to decry them, by persuading people that 
the Devil might either be the author of them, or work 
similar ones ; it is not even pretended that the Devil 
cannot endeavor to counterfeit some of his works. 
Experience hath proved both the one and the other. 
The pharisees cavilled, maliciously, at the miracles of 
Jesus Christ. And when they could not deny the 
things, they attributed them to the Devil, saying, 
sc He casteth out devils, by Beelzebub, the prince of 
sc the devils." Horrible blasphemy ! which was, ac- 
cording to some, precisely the sin against the Holy 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 265 

Ghost! It is also true, that impostors have endea- 
vored to counterfeit the miracles of the Lord, with an 
intent, if possible, to render them doubtful. Witness 
Simon Magus, the magician ; Apollonius, Tyanias, 
Barchocaba, the Jew, and others. But the Saviours 
meaning was, that in respect to spirits which were 
wise, moderate, attentive ; which judged of his mira- 
cles according to the rules of reason and scripture ; 
they were such both by their number, their nature, 
and their end : They were so authentic, so clear, so 
very much above the power of cheats, and of devils 
thernselvev, that they ought to convince, and were 
sufficient for that end. 

r 

We may add, my Brethren, that if there are false 
miracles, it follows that we ought not to suffer our- 
selves to be too easily attracted by every thing that 
appears to us prodigious and extraordinary. But it 
does not follow that there are not sufficient and reason- 
able marks, by which to distinguish, in the eyes of 
reasonable men, the true miracles from the false. If it 
were so, how could God have employed the way of 
miracles, to confirm the word of his servants? Would 
he make use of a useless means, or one always equi- 
vocal? Would Providence permit that man should 
fall into error without being able to preserve himself 
from it, by not laying down any certain character to 
distinguish the true from the false? Doubtless he would 
not. It is absolutely necessary that true miracles 
should have their stamp. The Son of God hath warn- 
ed us to beware of false Christs, which should shew 
great signs. When we hear St. John say, <c Believe 
tc not every spirit shall we conclude that we ought 
not to believe any ? Undoubtedly we should not : cc But 
try the spirits whether they are of God." In the 
same manner, believe not every miracle, but try the 
miracles whether they are of God. 



266 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 



Miracles truly divine may be distinguished from 
others by three general characters : By their nature ; 
the manner of their production, and their end. I say, 
in the first place, by their nature. I grant that the 
impositions of heathenish priests, and enchanters, have 
been carried to a considerable length, and have 
wrought, by the aid of some natural causes, or by that 
of devils, surprising miracles : Nevertheless this could 
not go so far as, effectually, to interrupt the course of 
nature for any considerable time. If devils had such 
a power, they would often interrupt thecourse of things, 
they would turn all things upside down. Would God 
permit this to take place to confirm falsehoods ? Would 
it not be quite contrary to the idea that we have of his 
wisdom? Moreover these are things so evidently 
above all created power, that even reason recognises 
at first ■* The finger o f God," and accords with scrip- 
ture in saying that God alone can do this. Such is, 
the predicting of the future, of things to come, and con- 
tingencies which depend upon free causes. Such is 
likewise, that knowledge of thought, and the most 
secret things of the heart. God has reserved this 
knowledge to himself in the scriptures; and it is im- 
possible to conceive, by reason, how any creature can 
read our inmost souls. Such is again the resurrection 
of the dead. God has appropriated this to himself in 
his word: kf He it is who killeth and maketh alive: 
" whobringeth down to the grave, and bring eth up." 
And we cannot conceive how a limited power can re- 
call a soul to replace it in a body, and re-establish a 
dead carcase in the state in which it was while it pos- 
sessed life. 

Let us apply what we have here said to the miracles 
of our Lord. He hath performed things altogether 
contrary to what we call t he laws of nature. What is 
more contrary to the laws of nature than to cause a 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 267 

man to walk upon the sea, without sinking; to give to 
this element the solidity of ice, or to prevent the natu- 
ral effect of the weight of a body, as he did that of St. 
Peter? What is more opposite to the laws of nature 
than to feed, and satisfy, four or five thousand persons 
with five loaves and two fishes, and to leave of them 
as much or more than there was at first? Will vou 
instance those things which God has reserved for 
himself, and which he alone can communicate to 
men, such as prophecy? Jesus Christ predicted the 
fall of Peter — the destruction of Jerusalem — the de- 
scent of the Holy Ghost — the success of the gospel. 
Will you instance the knowledge of the human heart? 
How many times did he relate what the pharisees and 
his disciples thought ? Will you instance the raising 
of the dead? The daughter of Jairus who was dead ; 
the son of the widow of Nain who was carried out 
to bury, and Lazarus, already corrupt, will shew you 
what he has done. 

A second character, which distinguishes true from 
false miracles, is the manner of their production. 
When the miracle is public — sudden — perfect — 
wrough without any means, which could concur in its 
production. The miracles of paganism, and popery, 
have almost always been private — concealed — done in 
secret — in the dark — in the presence of few witnesses. 
True miracles do not fear open- day-light ; they are 
quick and sudden ; it is necessary that they -should 
be done in an instant, or at least much quicker than 
nature can produce a thing according to the ordinary 
rules of motion. A miracle ought to be perfect, com- 
plete, producing a full effect ; for an imperfect and de- 
fective production evidences a feeble cause; a half cure 
of any malady is not a miracle. Finally, a true miracle 
requires neither the juice of an herb, nor conjuration, 
fror a great combination of means and ceremonies. 



288 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST 



Let us draw from this, our proof of the miracles of 
Jesus Christ. Consider the manner in which he 
Wrought them. It was the same in which God 
created the worlds by an act of his will— by his com- 
mandment — by his word. " He spake, and it was 
"done; he commanded, and it stood forth." Was it 
needful to appease the most impetuous and terrible of 
elements; which, after a violent tempest, remain a 
long* time in a state of agitation? He doth it with 
two words; " he rebuketh the wind; and saith to the 
" sea, peace, be still;" and these impetuous winds, this 
sea so insensible,, heard his voice, and obeyed him. 
Must he heal a leper? The words, " I w ill, be thou 
"clean/' are sufficient to effect it. " Young man , 
(f I say unto thee, arise," is the means that he uses to 
raise to life the widow's son. " Woman, great is thy 
"faith, be it unto thee, even as thou zoilt ;" by this 
he restores the daughter of the woman of Canaan. 
" Ephatha, be opened," said he to the deaf man, and 
immediately his ears were opened, and the strings of 
his tongue were loosed, and he spake plainly. e j He 
% rebuked the fever," and it left the mother-in-law of 
Peter. He cried, " Lazarus, come forth," and the 
dead, who was destitute of the faculty of hearing, heard 
his command ; the body having been putrifying four 
days, came forth from the tomb. What, if the Saviour 
sometimes employed certain means, in his miracles, 
these are things more likely to augment the difficulty. 
As when he anointed the eyes of the man, that was 
born blind, with earth and spittle, a thing more likely 
to make a man blind, than to heal his blindness. 

Consider again, that the miracles of Jesus Christ 
were public, wrought in the face of the sun, before 
a great number of witnesses, friends, and enemies. 
These were not miracles which he wrought only for 
those within, devotees, i.e. for men who were credu- 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 269 

lous and easy. Jesus Christ wrought them even be- 
fore the pharisees, his most determined enemies. You 
will tell me, that it is reported that he could not work 
miracles, in certain places, because of the unbelief of 
the inhabitants : but the meaning of this is, that he 
could not prevail with himself to do it, knowing that 
he should perform his miracles in vain, and wishing, 
at least, that those upon whom his miracles were 
wrought, should have a certain degree of faith : for 
in reality he wrought them a hundred times before 
those who believed not, and who never did believe. 
What place was not enlightened with the glory of his 
miracles? He wrought them in houses of feasting, 
\ and in houses of mourning; in the fields, in cities, in 
the markets, in the highways, in the midst of the 
multitude, in the porches of the temple, on days of 
numerous assemblies, and the greatest feasts at Jeru- 
salem. We may add, that the miracles of Jesus 
Christ were perfect, always producing an effect com- 
plete, durable, and permanent. Is it the restoration 
of the blind? This blind man enjoys his sight fully, 
and perfectly. Is it the raising of the dead ? This 
dead man performs, afterwards, all the functions of 
life. Are they women, out of whom he hath cast 
devils? They remain entirely cured; and follow 
him as living, and incontestible, witnesses of what he 
has done in their favor. 

We have said, in the third place, my Brethren, 
that true miracles ought, above all, to be distinguished 
from false ones, by their end and uses. A true mira- 
cle can only be wrought to confirm some important 
truth. A miracle that proves nothing, that only 
serves for pomp, curiosity, and that proves only 
things that every body believes, and knows, is, on this 
account, very suspicious. By this^lone, the greater 
part of those, with which the church of Rome enter- 



270 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 



tains us, are very unworthy of being credited: for 
they make their saints ridiculous quacks, who en- 
deavor to amuse the world ; who exhibit their won- 
ders in every corner, upon subjects which are some- 
times very ridiculous ; and all these fabulous narra- 
tions dishonor God, and reproach religion. It was 
not thus, that Jesus Christ, the prophets, and apos- 
tles, acted. Our Lord never wrought his wonders 
from ostentation, or simply to satisfy curiosity; all 
his miraculous works were invariably made subservi- 
ent to the conviction of unbelievers, and the confirm- 
ation of the infinitely important truths which he 
taught. 

Let us go farther still. A true miracle cannot be 
intended to destroy certain principles of natural reli- 
gion, or those of revelation, already established, and 
sufficiently verified. It ought only to tend to con- 
firm them, to set them in a clear light, and add some- 
thing to them. Thus every miracle wrought, to prove 
the worship of false gods, or in favor of a doctrine 
contrary to the principles of the moral law, and the 
scriptures, is naturally a lying miracle. Some will 
say, that the miracles of Jesus Christ tended to abolish 
a doctrine already received. I mean the ceremonial 
law of the Jews. But I answer, that the prophets 
had predicted that this ceremonial law should be abo- 
lished ; that it should give place to a worship more 
perfect, and that Jesus Christ should only accomplish 
what had been predicted. 

We may farther observe, that divine miracles 
should have, for their end, the destruction of the 
Devil's kingdom upon earth, the advancement of the 
service of God, and the sanctification of mankind. A 
miracle which visibly tends to this, carries in itself, by 
this very thing, its own evidence. Is it imaginable 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 



271 



that the Devil would act in the interest of God, if I 
may thus speak, that he would make men holy and 
happy, and destroy his own kingdom ? This was the 
reasoning which Jesus Christ pursued against those 
wretches, who accused him of casting out devils, by 
the prince of devils. ec Every kingdom," saith he, 
"divided against itself, is brought to desolation; 
* e and a city, or house, divided against itself, shall 
"not stand. And if Satan cast out Satan, he is 
t( divided against himself ; how shall then his king- 
" dam stand?" My miracles, he would say, tend 
wholly to destroy the empire of the Devil : how then 
can they come from him ? How can he wish to de- 
stroy himself ? If then it is not by Satan that I act, 
it necessarily follows that I act by the spirit and power 
of God. " But if I cast out devils by the spirit of 
" God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you:" 
i. e. the time of the Messiah is come, and I am the 
Messiah promised. 

Who does not know that all the miraculous works 
of Jesus Christ tended to lead men to true piety, and 
to destroy vice, superstition, and the power of evil 
spirits upon earth ? Who does not see, who does not 
know, that all his miracles were beneficial, tending to 
heal — to comfort — to instruct? With difficulty we 
can find only two • that of the accursed fig-tree, and 
that of the swine driven into the sea, which have some 
appearance of severity and punishment. But even 
those exceptions, which have no immediate reference 
to things done upon men, cannot prevent our saying, 
that he never wrought any thing but mild and benefi- 
cial miracles. Very different, in this, from Moses and 
the prophets, whose miracles were almost all terrible 
and destructive ; acts of vengeance and of judgment. 
I will not stop here to tell you, that the number of our 
Lord's miracles was such, that the miracles of Moses, 



272 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 



and the prophets, did not come near it. I shall say a 
word upon one thing, which may be brought as an 
objection. The miracles of a Moses, some will say, 
and those of an Elijah, did not prove that they were 
the Messiah, nor that they were the Sons of God. 
why do those of Jesus Christ prove that he is the 
Christ promised ; and how could he say that those 
works bore witness to his mission ? 

I answer, my Brethren, that miracles do not direct- 
ly prove any other thing, except that he who speaketh, 
speaketh on behalf of God, and that what he advanceth 
is divine and infallible truth. The miracles of Moses 
and Elijah could not prove that they were iC The 
(e CJwist, the Son of God;" because these holy men 
did not assert this ; they declared themselves to be 
only prophets, who had such and such commissions, 
and their miracles manifested it: But if they had 
boasted of being the Messiah, they would have ad- 
vanced a lie, and God would never have lent them his 
aid to work miracles, to confirm an imposture. With 
respect to our Lord, the thing is quite different : he 
did uot simply say that he was a prophet, but the 
promised Messiah. He called himself, " the Son of 
" God." He maintained that he was one with the 
Father; and that he had all power in heaven and in 
earth ; and that God had given him his power to con- 
firm what he said. He hath done, in confirmation of 
what he said, i( The works which none other man 
c< did." We conclude (hen, thc-i his works assure us 
that he was sent of God, and that we ought to believe 
in him. They prove also that he is the Messiah, the 
Son of God, blessed with the Father, as he hath de- 
clared. In other respects, the number, the nature, and 
the excellency of his miracles, have demonstrated that 
lie was greater than all the prophets; and, conse- 
quently, have proved that he was the Messiah, who 



PROOFS OF HIS MISSION. 273 

alone could and must surpass in glory every other 
ambassador of God. Finally ; his miracles have proved 
that he was the Messiah, since he hath accomplished, 
in so many respects, that which was predicted in the 
ancient oracles touching the Christ. 



CONCLUSION. 

3SlJT I must now conclude; it is time to do so. 
After a subject so difficult, and sufficient perhaps to 
weary your patience. I stop, struck with admiration 
at the miracles of my Saviour, and with astonishment 
at the incredulity of the Jews. Have you not, while 
you have been hearing me, already made this reflec- 
tion twenty times: How is it possible that the Jews 
should steel themselves against so many proofs ? that 
they were not convinced by the power of the miracles 
of the Son of God ? O how great is the blindness of 
man ! his voluntary malice ! his stubbornness ! they 
are often wonderful and inconceivable ! What could 
Jesus Christ " have done for his vineyard, that he 
f( hath not done V* What could he have done to 
convince this people more than he hath already ? The 
Jews are inexcusable without doubt : But O my God, 
how necessary does thy grace appear in our souls, in 
the terrible example of their unbelief! Let us la- 
ment, my Brethren, their unhappy race, who persevere 
in the obstinate hardness of their ancestors ; and let 
us pray for their conversion. The unbelief of the 
Jews is prodigious, it hath drawn destruction upon 
them. Let us take heed, lest any one of us fall after 
the same example of unbelief. 

Ye idolizers of reason, libertines, who pretend to 

T 



274 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, 



be so hard to be persuaded ; what would you that 
Jesus Christ had done, that he hath not done to con- 
vince you ? Will you say that you have not seen his 
miracles? Ought men then never to believe any 
thing* but what they have seen with their eyes ? Do 
you then doubt of all circumstances, without excep- 
tion, of which you have not had occular demonstra- 
tion ? Is not so ridiculous a scepticism extravagant 
in the highest degree ? Are there not things so noto- 
rious, so generally received by tradition, so well at- 
tested, so circumstantial, that no wise man calls them 
in question ? And are not the miracles of Jesus 
Christ better attested than any other events of ancient 
history ? Have they not been, not only universally 
believed by Christians, but even acknowledged by 
Jews and Heathens ? But those who reported them 
were perhaps deceived ? What! in things which were 
public, sensible, palpable ; done in the presence of 
hundreds of witnesses, in things of which the effect 
subsisted after the miracle ! in things, wherein those 
who were healed, revived, and felt the effect in them- 
selves ! how then could they be deceived ? Will you 
have recourse to the evasion of the Jews, that Jesus 
Christ acted by magic ? Or, will you borrow their 
fable, that he acted by virtue of four letters, which 
were stolen out of the temple ? These fables, these 
suppositions, are not lofty enough for free-thinkers. 
You would blush to give to the Devil, or to the pre- 
tended virtue of a word, composed of a few letters, 
that which you would not grant to God. You must, 
at least, condescend to believe, that you give more to 
the Divinity, than to the power of the DeviL Away, 
then with all vain chicanery; study the life of Jesus 
Christ with a calm spirit; examine his miracles, and 
yield to so many evident proofs, which are brought 
forward in favor of his religion. As for us, my Bre- . 
thren, who are already convinced of the divinity of 



PROOFS OP HIS MISSION. 275 

the gospel, and that of its author; let us build up our- 
selves more and more in our most holy faith. Oh ! 
how just, how well-founded, is this faith, supported 
by the evidence of so many miracles ! I have not 
seen them with my bodily eyes, but the testimony of 
so many witnesses, who are faithful — holy — worthy 
of all credit ; renders me as certain of them, as if I 
had been a spectator. It appears to me, that I still 
see Jesus Christ shedding- forth his benefits in every 
place through which he passes; here, he healeth a 
blind man ; there, a paralytic ; and causes his divine 
virtue to be felt, even in the same manner as those 
felt it who touched his garments. Away then, Chris- 
tians, with doubt and uncertainty ! and if we believe 
in the Lord Jesus, if we are persuaded of the truth of 
his gospel, let us live henceforth according to our 
faith ; let holiness — piety — righteousness ; be seen in 
all our conduct ; let us learn to speak, in one sense, 
like our Master, and be able to say with him, " The 
" works that I do bear witness of me." We will 
not say it in reference to miraculous works. We are 
not called to command the winds — to calm the tem- 
pests — to raise the dead ; but we are called to do 
works of piety — charity — righteousness. Do we then 
do them ? Ought we to be believed to be good men 
upon our own word ? May not our titles of believers, 
and children of God, be contested ? Can we say with 
assurance, cc Certainly if I bear witness of myself, 
(C my witness is not true but come and see my 
works ? I command my passions, I calm the motions 
of my heart, I open my hand in beneficence, my 
mouth in blessings. iC I do the works of my Father." 
It is possible that the greater part of us are of good 
report among men ; they believe us to be upright, 
and they speak accordingly : Is this sufficient ? 
They who say it are not prophets; they are men 
who judge charitably, and who are often deceived ; 

t 2 



276 THE MIRACLES OF JESUS CHRIST, &C. 



but admitting they were John Baptists, we should 
need a testimony still greater, and more certain, than 
his. Since miracles have ceased, the holiness of 
Christians is the greatest proof of the truth of their 
religion ; and it is the only proof of the reality of the 
profession which they make, and of the sincerity of 
their faith. Let us have this necessary mark ; it will 
be the means of stopping the mouth of our enemies, 
of edifying our neighbours, of glorifying God upon 
earth, and of our reigning one day eternally with 
him. To this great God, the Father, Son, and Holy 
Ghost, be honor and glory, world without end, 
AMEN. 



THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE 
AGAINST JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS 
DOCTRINE. 

SERMON X. 

Matthew, xi Chap. 6 Verse. 

" And blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended 

in me.*' 

My Brethren, 

The most excellent, and useful, things, do not al- 
ways produce the same effect, on all kinds of subjects. 
They may sometimes, in consequence of the evil dis- 
positions of men, become pernicious, instead of pro- 
fitable. Light is injurious to the eyes of sick persons; 
it dazzles the weak sighted, but cures not the blind, 
although it constitutes the joy, the consolation, and 
safety, of those who have healthy eyes. The physi- 
cian, with his most salutary remedies, may increase 
the disease of some sick persons, and even hasten 
their death, because the stomach is bad, and the 
whole constitution disordered ; and these medicines, 
instead of operating with success, accelerate the mo- 
tion of the humours, and irritate the disorder. Let 

t 3 



27S THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 

us proceed to things of another nature, to what is ge- 
nerally called the truth, which is the light of the un- 
derstanding; so far from always persuading, it fre- 
quently disgusts, and repulses souls that are full of ig- 
norance — of prejudice- — of vicious qualities ; so that 
instead of receiving it, they go so far, as to hate, and 
fight against, it. 

Providence; that wise, and benevolent, conduct of 
God, who governs all things, in a manner so worthy 
of admiration, and respect, finds murmurers who ac- 
cuse it, and who are offended at its proceeding. What 
is more excellent than the law, considered in itself? 
What more useful to govern man, and to suppress 
vice ? At the same time, who knoweth not that the 
law hath " Stirred up sin/' accidently, as we say ; so 
that it hath made it become "Exceeding sinful;" 
and that, by the defect of man, it hath only been to 
sinners, " The ministry of death, and condemnation, 
" and of a letter that killeth ?" 

My Brethren, the gospel, still more excellent than 
the law, although it is " The sa vour of life unto life 
s( to them that are saved" is, nevertheless, ff The 
ec savour of death unto death in them that perish. 
f 1 Light is come into the world" without being re- 
ceived by the greater part of men, u Who loved dark- 
" ness rather than light, because their deeds were 
€: evil." Jesus Cririst himself, the author of the gos- 
pel, and the source of our salvation, was iC A sign to 
tc bespoken against," and an occasion of falling, to 
an infinite number of persons. Let us not be asto- 
nished at this ; if the conduct of the Father, in the 
government of the world, meets with so many im- 
pious or weak persons, who are oifended at it ; the 
conduct of the Son, in his life, and in the establish- 
ment of his religion, may well be a subject of stum- 



i 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 279 

bling. If the Almighty, reigning in the heavens with 
so much majesty, and ruling the universe, with so 
much power and glory, is not above the complaints— 
the reproaches — the objections ; of so many miserable 
mortals; I am not astonished, that the Son, made 
flesh, appearing in a lowly, and suffering state, hath 
been despised; and that religion hath been, and still 
is, often rejected by the Jew — the Gentile — the He- 
retic — the Infidel. Happy they who, more attentive 
to the truth, more divested of all false sentiments, and 
elevating themselves above their prejudices and pas- 
sions, embrace this gospel, and receive him who is 
given unto us as our Saviour and our God ! cc Blessed 
" is he," saith Jesus Christ himself, ({ Blessed is he 
"whosoever shall not be offended in me." The 
Lord pronounced these words on a very important 
occasion, on which it appeared that his answer should 
have taken away the prejudices which the Jews im- 
bibed, in consequence of his contemptable appear- 
ance, and the novelty of his doctrine. John the Bap- 
tist, not for his own information, but that he might 
give place to Jesus Christ; cause him to be more 
fully known, and heal his own disciples of their 
doubts ; sent two messengers to the Saviour, to en- 
quire of him : (C Art thou he that should come, or 
" look we for another. And Jesus answered and 
" said unto them, go and show John again, the 
" things which ye do hear and see ; the blind rer 
" ceive their sight, and the lame icalk ; the lepers 
(< are cleansed, and the deaf hear ; the dead are 
" raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached 
" to them." Fie opposed his miracles to the objec- 
tionable appearances, which they pretended to find 
in his person, and doctrine; and he set forth, at the 
same time, the accomplishment of the ancient pro- 
phecies in his person. Notwithstanding, an answer 
so capable of persuading, he knew that infatuated 



280 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



minds, and corrupt hearts, would resist the evidence, 
even of these proofs, he adds, (i Blessed is he, who- 
(f soever shall not be offended i?i me." We have 
chosen this text, my Brethren, with a view of setting 
before you, the injustice, and the sin, of offences, 
taken at the person, and doctrine, of Jesus Christ: 
And nothing is more excellent, more just, more ne- 
cessary, than by a faith well founded, to exalt him 
above the prepossessions of ill-disposed men. Two 
general heads will make the division of our discourse. 
We shall observe, under the first, what it is to be 
offended at Jesus Christ ; and we shall enter into the 
detail of the principle offences, which are taken at 
him, and his doctrine. 

We shall observe, under the second, that these 
offences are unreasonable — unjust — criminal: And 
consequently, blessed are they, who, far from render- 
ing themselves culpable, are more and more con- 
firmed in the faith of Jesus Christ, and in the prac- 
tice of his religion. O ! that we may be able to say 
something useful upon so grand a subject ! At a time, 
and in an age, in which the spirit of infidelity and 
scepticism, appears to be seeking only to revive the 
prejudices, and the objections, of the Jew and the 
Greek, the Libertine and the Heretic ; and to increase 
them by new difficulties, accumulated with so much 
malice and affectation: Happy we, if far from being 
offended at Jesus Christ, and his religion, we make 
th€m all our hope, our consolation, and our glory ' 
God grant it. AMEN. 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 281 



FIRST PART. 



Brethren, few men are ignorant of the dis- 
tinction between <c Offence taken," and <( Offence 
"given;" and it is necessary to take notice of it in 
this place. ec Offence given," is an act, a word, or 
a circumstance, sufficient, of itself, to cause men to 
fall into error, or vice. " Offence taken" is a wrong 
judgment, an evil disposition, which is formed in the 
mind, or in the heart, of any person, concerning 
things, innocent in themselves, sometimes, even very 
good and necessary ; with which, a man is offended, 
and takes occasion to judge his neighbour uncharita- 
bly, and to offend his God. Jesus Christ, who is 
truth and holiness itself, could never give any lawful 
occasion to any one to sin and to fall. But men, by 
an effect of their prejudice and malice, have drawn, 
without cause, matter of offence, and an occasion of 
falling, from what they had known of his person and 
religion. It is on this account that the Lord speaketh 
of being " Offended in him;" that is to say, with 
him, and on his account. " In^liim," that is to say, 
<{ In his person," and, c( In his conduct" " In 
" him," also, signifies " In his doctrine" Thus it 
is that the word, <c In me," often signifies, " In the 
" doctrine of Jesus Christ." " Abide in me ;" fre- 
quently means, persevere in my doctrine ! 

This being admitted, let us now take a survey of 
some of the principal classes of offences, which men 
have taken at his person — his conduct — his death— 
his religion. The first class: Men have been of- 
fended at the person of Jesus Christ, on account of 



282 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



his apparent meanness. And thus it is that the Jew 
and Gentile found an occasion, or pretence, to reject 
him ; although in a manner, which somewhat varies. 
The Jews, infatuated with earthly hopes, fascinated 
with pomp and grandeur, expected a Messiah victo- 
rious and glorious. They found a Jesus contempti- 
ble— born in a low estate — brought up in the vile 
condition of a mechanic — living in poverty— followed 
by disciples poor and abject — ministered unto by the 
benevolence of a few women ; and often, not having 
a place where to lay his head. " Is not this the 
6C carpenter's son, whose father and mother we 
ec know ?" Was it from an obscure and despised 
man — without credit with the great— without human 
power — hated — opposed by every thing that was 
most highly esteemed by their nation, that they 
should expect glory, deliverance, and salvation ? The 
heathens did not expect an extraordinary deliverer ; 
but they supposed, according to the common idea of 
all men, that great things must be accomplished by 
great means ; that the Son of God, coming upon the 
earth, would be like the sun, which manifests himself 
by his own light. This was the opinion of Celsus. 
He said that a Jew, that had lived in obscurity, and 
died in shame, could never be the redeemer and re- 
storer of the human race, the reformer of all reli- 
gions, or the Lord of the universe. In the second 
place ; men have been offended at the true greatness 
of Jesus Christ, in his person ; as he is God and man 
united. The Jews attempted to stone him; " Be- 
(c cause/ 3 said they, cc that thou, being a man, 
" makest thyself God ;" because, (C He said, before 
*' Abraham was, I am, and made himself equal with 
" God.' 3 And the Sanhedrim condemned him as a 
blasphemer, because he said I am the Son of God. 
Thus opposite prejudices are often an occasion of 
falling to weak men. They find Jesus Christ too 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 283 



abject, too little, when they find him simply a man. 
They find him too great, when he discovers himself 
as the V God Man" " God blessed for ever !" 
Prom this last source proceed the offences of heretics, 
ancient and modern. The Samosatanians of former 
times, and the Socinians at the present day, can see in 
him only a man born in time. The Arians find, in 
him, a creature, made before all worlds. The Mana- 
chees and the Marcionites, will scarcely acknowledge 
any thing in him but the divinity. They attack, in 
many respects, his being born of a virgin, and the 
truth of his human nature. The Nestorians supposed, 
in Christ, a plurality of persons, as well as of natures, 
The Eutychians asserted, the confusion, and the mix- 
ture, of the two natures, divine and human, in one 
person only. So true is it, that the union of the divi- 
nity with the humanity, of our Lord, hath been, and 
still is, an offence, an occasion of falling, to an infinite 
number of men. ' "Blessed are they whosoever 
" shall not be offended in him." 

The second class of "offences" taken, are those 
which are taken from his life and conduct upon earth. 
Three things offended the Jews. In the first place; 
his manner of life was not sufficiently rigid : He did 
not distinguish himself by particular habits, as John 
the Baptist ; nor by very austere fasts, nor by any ex- 
traordinary diet, nor by a retreat into the wilderness, 
far from society. " Behold/' said they, " a man 
" gluttonous, and a wine bibber, a friend of publi- 
" cans and sinners!" He had not only nothing 
rigid in his manner of life, but he even frequented 
the houses of men of suspicious conduct, and exe- 
crated life, who were odious to the nation by their 
employment, as publicans and tax-gatherers. " This 
" man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them" 
Finally, nothing more disgusted the Jews, in his con- 



/ 



284 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 

duct, than to see him so remiss on the sabbath-day ; 
that is to say, according- to their manners, and ac- 
cording- to their ideas ; and, allowing himself, and his 
disciples, the liberty of doing some kind of work on 
that day. "This man is not of God, because he 
<s keepeth not the sabbath-day." 

The third source of offences, are the cross — the 
sufferings — the death, of the Saviour. Nothing could 
be more disgusting to both Jews and Greeks ! To 
expect a glorious Messiah, and to see a man in the 
form of a servant — hated — persecuted — delivered up 
to his enemies — apprehended — bound — condemned 
as a malefactor— nailed to an accursed tree — ex- 
piring in the midst of ig r nomy and sufferings! What! 
to expect glory from him, who himself could not 
avoid shame ! To expect life from him, who could 
not convey himself from the most shameful execu- 
tion ! What scandal ! what occasion of falling \ 
Such are the general sources of offences, which are 
taken at the person — the life — the death, of the 
Saviour ! Behold also, those which are drawn from 
his doctrine and religion \ 

The first class. Offences taken at the novelty of 
his doctrine The word novelty, so pleasing to men, 
in many things, is scarcely ever so, in matters of re- 
ligion. This disposition must have been more strong- 
ly rooted in the Jews, because they believed they 
had the same religion as Abraham, Moses, and the 
prophets ; a religion descended from heaven. cc We 
"know/' said they, "that God spake unto Moses; 
6( but as for this fellow," speaking of Jesus Christ, 
" we know not whmce he is.*' Many things ap- 
peared to them novel, in the Gospel of the Son of 
God, In the first place ; the whole substance of his 
doctrine, which was so different from the ordinary 



JESUS CHRIST^ AND HIS DOCTRINE* 285 



glosses of the scribes and pharisees ; from their tra- 
ditions, and their manner of teaching. In the second 
place ; the small account which he appeared to make 
of ceremonies, in comparison with interior worship, 
and spiritual adoration. " The hour cometh, and 
<( now is, when the true worshippers, shall worship 
sc the Father in spirit, and in truth." " Go," saith 
he, in another place, " and learn what that meaneth, 
" I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." In the 
third place ; what could be more novel, and more 
disgusting to the Jews, than to hear of the calling of 
all nations into one body; cc the throwing down of 
cc the partition wall," which was the separation be- 
tween the Jew and the Greek; and admitting all 
men, without distinction, to the same faith — the 
same salvation. What an offence to (hem J 

Finally : Their principal offence, at the doctrine 
of Christ, (an offence, which was augmented when 
the apostles proclaimed the abolition of the ceremo- 
nial worship) was, that the law of Moses must give 
place to the gospel of Jesus Christ ; the shadow to 
the substance ; and that they must embrace the gos- 
pel under conditions, altogether different from those 
of the legal covenant. What innovations! What matter 
of offence to them ! The heathens were not less dis- 
gusted at the novelty of the doctrine of Jesus Christ; 
the change which it proposed to them was an entire 
change : Othergods — other worship— other maxims — 
other laws ! Ah ! said they to the apostles and primitive 
Christians ; " You come to disturb the whole world. 
cc You are of yesterday — you are new, and you come 
" to take away our ancient customs, and our tutelar 
" deities, under the protection of which we have lived 
" with glory — made conquests — established empires! 
<( We follow our ancestors, who have happily fol- 
<( lowed their predecessors. Innovations are danger- 



286 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



<( ous in kingdoms, and you bring" us a strange doe- 
ff trine, from which our minds revolt." These and 
similar prejudices remain to the present time, among 
those idolatrous people, whom we wish to convert to 
Christianity: And if we believe what is related, the 
Chinese, among others, imagine themselves right, in 
rejecting the Christian law; because it is not of so 
great antiquity as their empire, nor as the customs, 
and the religion, which they have observed for so 
many ages. The second sort of offence taken at the 
religion of Jesus Christ, is, that it appears too simple. 
Simple, in its worship; without pomp — without or- 
naments — without a multitude of mystical, hidden, 
and profound ceremonies. This simplicity, destitute 
of every thing that strikes the senses, was not agree- 
able to the taste either of the Jew or the Gentile. 
We. may say, even of the greatest part of Christians, 
who have " TV me d aside from the simp licity which 
(C is in Jesus Christ ; and who have united to religion 
so many things made for ostentation, for pomp, and 
to flatter the inclinations of men, in reference to sen- 
sible things. 

In other respects, the Christian religion appeared 
simple, in what it contained, because it is not founded 
upon abstruse reasonings — : iipon philosophic demon- 
stration — upon disputes, and, curious questions. Let 
us see what the philosophers would have said. They 
would have wished that we had dived into, and ex- 
plained, that which is most hidden in nature, in the 
ways of providence, and in philosophical questions. 
Nothing of all this ; it came to them, reporting 
facts, certain incredible events, which happened in a 
corner of the earth. A man who wrought miracles — 
who was crucified — who, afterwards, rose again, and 
ascended into heaven. Things so incredible, so little 
calculated to satisfy their curiosity; and so little- in- 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 287 



teresting did this appear to them, that we may ask, 
was it not the means of repulsing them ? We may 
go still farther. What ministers ? what preachers of 
the doctrine of Jesus Christ, were the apostles? 
Fishermen — tent-makers : Men destitute of that eru- 
dition — of that profound knowledge — of that agree- 
able eloquence, which appear so essential to introduce, 
and to maintain, the doctrine which we wish to pro- 
pagate. There is nothing more simple than the 
manner, in which the first heralds of the gospel spoke. 
Here, all is without the graces of speech, without 
attraction : They themselves confessed it. " My 
<c speech, and my preaching," said St. Paul, "was 
" not with enticing words of mans wisdom." Finally, 
may I not venture to say, that the gospel appeared 
too simple, in the means it proposed, for the justifica- 
tion of man, which is, " Faith, without the works of 
" the law?" A favor, on the part of God, without 
the concurrence of man ; an extraordinary satisfac- 
tion, which Jesus Christ made for us, and without us; 
without our sacrifices or expiat'ons : A recourse to 
this grace of God, and to this satisfaction of Christ, by 
acts of faith and confidence, without depending upon 
any of our works, as having any part therein. Here, 
the Jew had sadly lost his way. St. Paul hath ad- 
mirably declared it, in the 9th. of Rom. "But Israel 
u which followed after the law of righteousness, 
" hath not attained to the law of righteousness. 
(C Wherefore ? because they sought it not by faith, 
(C but as it were, by the works of the law, for they 
" stumbled at that stumbling stone" They sought 
a false way of justification ; and that Which the gospel 
represented to them, offended them. The Gentiles 
were not in a state much more likely to imagine that 
a righteousness, out of themselves, could be the cauee 
of their salvation. Those who ascribed so much to 
Tirtue, believed that this virtue alone, rendered them 



288 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



worthy of having" communion with their gods. Thus 
it was by their own powers, by the victories which 
they endeavored to obtain over the passions, that they 
believed themselves distinguished from other men, 
and the favorjtes of heaven. What matter then, of 
disgust, to hear it affirmed, in a simple manner, it is 
true, but in a manner the most firm and determined ; 
that neither the righteousness of the Jew, nor the 
virtue of the Gentile, could lead them to salvation ; 
but the merit of Christ, which they must embrace by 
a lively faith ! Some people complain of the sim- 
plicity of the evangelical doctrine : Some have also 
complained, in the third place, of its sublimity ; 
things which appear quite opposite. Some take 
offence at the difficulties which these mysteries pre- 
sent. They are great, it is true, they are elevated 
above human reason : And although these sublime 
mysteries are not very numerous, they are, undoubt- 
edly, sufficient to confound a number of poor weak 
mortals. The philosophers, at Athens, mocked at 
the doctrine of the resurrection. " What will this 
" babbler say f" said they, speaking of St. Paul. 
Julian ridiculed the faith of the Christians. " Mere 
(( credulity/' said he, " which causes them to receive 
tc things, incomprehensible, above reason, and incom- 
" patible with its light." Such is the spirit of infi- 
delity in our days ! It has been remarked, that the 
principal heresies, opposed to our mysteries, sprang 
up in the East, among a subtil people, of strong 
passions, and among men, who were curious and ar- 
rogant. But all that their pride, and false subtilty, 
could invent, has, in our days, been current among 
our people, in the West, and in the North ; and has, 
there, been maintained with as much obstinacy, and 
pride, as ever it was in past ages. 



Finally; the last kind of offences, of which we 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 289 



shall take notice, are those which were taken at the 
morality of Jesus Christ, and his severe precepts; 
little adapted, say they, to the weakness of man. 
The Jew makes almost the whole of holiness to con- 
sist in exterior things : Jesus sets no value on out- 
ward, without inward, things. The Jew believes 
that it is sufficient to abstain from those sins which 
the law forbids : Jesus condemns, even sinful looks — • 
thoughts ; and even the secret and hidden motions of 
concupiscence. The Jew believes, that divorce, and 
polygamy, are permitted, because God tolerated 
them : Jesus Christ forbids both. The Gentiles 
have also found these laws very severe; and even 
now, among all ignorant people, where they can 
divorce one wife, and have several at one time ; one 
of the great obstacles to their conversion, is the pro- 
hibition of these two things. The patience which 
Jesus Christ prescribes to his disciples, is an offence 
to all those who believe that it is a mark of cowardice,, 
and baseness, to suffer without revenging themselves. 
The mortification — the self-denial — the humility; 
which the gospel recommends, with so much earnest- 
ness; are things with which all men will be naturally 
disgusted ; and will say, " This is an hard saying ; 
"who can hear it?" Above all, the crosses, the 
afflictions; which we must bear after Jesus Christ, 
are a terrible offence to the flesh. To be ready to 
forsake all, to sacrifice all, even life itself, for the 
sake of him, and his gospel, is an offence to all those, 
" Who fall away in the day of temptation ;" as our 
Lord saith in the parable. Behold ! my Brethren, 
the many occasions of falling, to weak, and corrupt 
man. Behold! the many reasons, or different pre- 
tences, on account of which nations, and particular 
persons, have been unwilling, or are not yet willing, 
to submit to the sceptre of Jesus Christ! an impor- 
tant subject for our reflections ; but, at the same time, 

u 



290 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 

a just subject to diminish the astonishment, which we 
feel, that Christianity should have made so little pro- 
gress in the world, and that it should produce so 
little effect, upon the Christians who profess it ! We 
shall now endeavor to set before you, the injustice., 
and the criminality, of these offences; and thus prove, 
that the Son of God had just cause to say ; " Blessed 
sc is he whosoever shall not be offended in me." 
This is our second part. 



SECOND PART. 



JL Observe here, in the first place, that the scriptures 
sometimes comprise, under certain negative expres- 
sions, as we term them, much more than we at first 
imagine; and that there is included in them, all the 
force of the most positive and affirmative expressions. 
Thus David said, that et God will not despise a 
"broken, and a contrite heart;" thereby signify- 
ing, that he approves of it, that it is pleasing to him, 
and that he infinitely loves it. St. Paul also tells us, 
that <c He is not ashamed of the gospel of Christ ;" 
meaning thereby, that he knew nothing more worthy 
of esteem, and admiration ; that he preferred it to 
all things, and therefore would glory in it ! So here / 
when the Saviour saith, <c Blessed is he whosoever 
" shall not be offended in me;" he meaneth, blessed 
are they, who, instead of rejecting me, receive me by 
faith, and with exultation : Blessed are they, who, so 
far from finding in me, or in my doctrine, any occa- 
sion of falling, glory in being my disciples, following 
my precepts, and embracing me as their Saviour,, and 
their God t 



\ 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 291 

After this observation, there are two ways to pro- 
ceed to the proposition itself. The one is to notice, 
separately, all the offences, which we have parti- 
cularised : The other is to make general remarks 
upon the sources, the miseries, the criminality, of 
these various pretences of falling, which men have 
taken at the person and doctrine of the Saviour. The 
first method would lead us too far : The subject is so 
abundant, that it would be impossible to exhaust it, 
in one sermon. We shall only give a specimen of it, 
in respect to one article, which shall be the first thing 
here considered; namely, the offence which men 
have taken at the apparent meanness of Jesus Christ. 
This offence was unjust, in itself, for it is neither the 
birth, nor the exterior glory, of a person ; nor his 
condition in the world, which constitutes true virtue, 
or real merit. 

Were there not among the Jews, great men, pro- 
phets, and kings; whose beginnings were small, be- 
fore they became the teachers — the leaders — the 
sovereigns, of their people? Such were Joseph, 
David, and Moses himself. Joseph, sold as a slave, 
is a servant in a strange family ; is even shut up 
in a dungeon, before he becomes prime minister to 
Pharaoh, and the preserver of his father's family. 
David, a poor shepherd, is afterwards a fugitive, and 
hides himself in caverns ; before he reigns over Judah. 
Moses himself carried the sheep hook, before he com- 
manded ; he went forth from the w ilderness to be the 
leader of Israel. The former meanness of a mans 
condition, is not a lawful reason for rejecting him, 
afterwards, when he is sent of God. The Jews sub- 
mitted to him, and he brought them out of Egypt ; 
who at first, in one sense, could not save himself: 
Obliged to save his life by flight, and by leaving his 
country, as a malefactor! The Jews could say no- 

u 2 



302 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



thing about the meanness of Jesus Christ, which, in 
this way, might not be confuted. The Heathens, 
when they spoke without prejudice, confessed that it 
was not the glory of extraction, or birth ; the noble- 
ness of family, or worldly greatness, which constituted 
true sages; or which could give value to their instruc- 
tions. The greater part of their philosophers were 
of extraction, either mean, or not above mediocrity. 
They did not shine in the world by personal qualities, 
striking the senses, nor by riches and vain glory. 
Were they less heard on that account ? Were they 
not, sometimes, esteemed, even by princes, and pre- 
ferred to the rich and the great? The design of 
Jesus Christ, in manifesting himself to the world, 
under a contemptible appearance, was so great — so 
useful — so glorious, that it is sufficient to disperse all 
the offences of his abasement, and condition, upon 
earth. After all, if Jesus appeared in an abject state, 
<( We have," nevertheless, " beheld his glory, the 
" glory as of the only begotten of the Father V* 
And this glory ought to take away every thing that 
appears in him low and despicable, This glory ap- 
pears by all that the heavens did to honor him at his 
birth — in his life — his death ! This glory appeared 
in what he did, during his life, in his numerous mira- 
cles, commanding the wind and the waves, devils and 
death; exercising a power, altogether divine, over all 
creatures. After this, can any one, without being a 
fool, be offended at an abasement like that of the 
Saviour? And, above all, the glory of his resurrec- 
tion and exaltation ; can they leave a shadow of pre- 
tence, to be offended at that which, for a time, ap- 
peared in the form of weakness ? I ought to add, 
that the offences taken at his person, in this respect, 
were predicted ; and it is one of the general answers 
which we have to give, in order to refute all the ob- 
jections of those who are offended in him. I proceed 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 293 



to these general answers. They will be the more 
proper to embrace the greater part of the offences 
which we have noticed, and which must suffice at 
present. Perhaps, however, at a future opportunity, 
if the Lord permit, we shall resume the subject, in 
detail, and reply, one by one, to all the articles we 
have mentioned, 

We have five general remarks to make, or so many 
proofs to bring forward, to show you that the offences 
taken at Jesus Christ, were unreasonable, unjust, and 
criminal; and, con:equcr :1 y, they are blessed, and 
wise, who do not give way to those occasions of fall- 
ing. Follow me with attention. The first remark, 
which ought to serve, eqtially to take away the of- 
fences taken at the baseness of his condition, and 
those drawn from the ignomy of his death; is, that 
these offences were pr-e&tcted ; and, I will say, a pre- 
judice, against which th e Jews ought to have been 
sufficiently guarded, by the scriptures which they 
read; and should never have induced them to reject 
Je c us Christ and his doctrine. But it is certain that 
the prophets had spoken of the abject state, and the 
abasement, of the Messiah ; and of the offence which 
men would take at them. David said, in the 22d. 
Psalm, speaking in the Saviour's person, (C I am a 
" worm, and nb man; a reproach of men, and de- 
" spised of the people !'* And in the 69th. Psalm, 
tr For thy sake I have borne reproach; shame hath 
" covered my face. I am become a stranger unto 
t( my brethren, and an alien to my mothers chil- 
" dren." " Reproach hath broken my heart, and I 
<c am full of heaviness: and I looked for some to 
" take pity, but there was none; and for comforters 
" but I found none." Zechariah speaks, it is true, 
of the Messiah as of a king ; but what sort of a king ? 
A king, poor and abject ; who, even on the day of 

u S 



294 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



his triumph, was to be mounted upon " The foal of 
" an ass." 

Did not the royal prophet inform the Jews,, that 
there should be a stone which should be rejected by 
the builders ? Did not Isaiah say, that there should 
be a stone of stumbling — and of offence to both the 
houses of Israel ? When I carefully read this great 
prophet, I observe, in the beginning of the 53d. chap, 
that he writes upon the sufferings of the Messiah ; 
and he begins with a sorrow ful complaint : The con- 
nection of the first and second verses, gives me to 
understand that he is, there, speaking of a man whose 
meanness should not lead us to discredit his predic- 
tion. " Who hath believed our report ? and to 
" whom is the arm of the Lord revealed ? For he 
" shall grow up before him," adds he, " as a, tender 
l< plant, or as a root out of a dry ground." We may 
proceed still farther; and observe, that, not only 
weakness and meanness, frequently constitute the 
character of the Messiah, among the prophets ; but 
that even his sufferings are not less mentioned than 
his glory. David declared that, (c They pierced his 
" hands, and his feet — that they gave him gall for 
" his meat; and in his thirst they gave him vinegar 
" to drink." Daniel declared, that the " Messiah 
" should be cut off, but i ot for himself" If humi- 
liations and sufferings could not be applicable to him, 
who then is that man, of whom the prophet spoke, 
" Who was to bear our griefs, and carry our sor- 
i( rows?" that man, " rejected and despised ;" that 
man whom " we esteemed as stricken, smitten of 
i( God, and afflicted ? but who was wounded for our 
" transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities — 
" and with whose stripes we are healed ?" Who is 
that man, " brought as a lamb to the slaughter; 
f and icho was cut off from the land of the living?" 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 295 



'Whatever evasions the Jews make use of at this day, 
to turn, into another channel, these passages, which 
we so justly apply to Jesus Christ ; they prove in this, 
their voluntary blindness, and the hopeless state of a 
bad cause. Many, among them, have pretended to 
have recourse to two Messiahs ; one, who should 
suffer ; and another, who should be triumphant and 
glorious. But if it were possible for them to have an 
abject, and suffering Messiah ; why then are they 
offended at the person, and the cross, of Jesus ? It is 
absolutely certain that Isaiah speaks of one and the 
same person, of one and the same Christ, abased, 
and, afterwards, glorified. For he saith, " When 
" thou shall make his soul an offering for sin, he 
" shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days*' 
We may then conclude, that the Jews have been 
equally unjust and criminal, when they have been 
offended at the meanness and sufferings of the Sa- 
viour. Their stumbling stone confirms our faith, 
because it was predicted. One of the characters of 
Jesus would have been wanting, which was pointed 
out in the sacred oracles, if he had not been despised, 
and rejected, by his own nation. Happy then are 
they, who, like good old Simeon, have been enabled 
to say, and to know, that the Lord " Should be set, 
" for the fall — of many in Israel, and for a sign 
" which should be spoken against f? He said it 
before the event had verified it : He said it while 
holding Jesus in his arms : He said it at a time when 
he himself was in an extacy at having seen the salva- 
tion of God; and when, in spite of contrary appear- 
ances, he placed all his happiness in this Jesus, which 
was come into the world ! <c Lord, now lettest thou 
(i thy servant depart in peace according to thy 
" word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 
Happy are they who, after his example, embrace 
Jesus by faith; full of joy and confidence in him ! 



296 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



" Blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in 
" me." 

To this first general remark/ we may add a second, 
in order to do away many offences, that have been 
taken at the person, and doctrine, of Jesus Christ. 
It must be acknowledged, that we are happy, when 
we are raised above prejudices — when we have 
strength to resist, and overcome them. But these 
are prejudices, which have been, and still are, the 
cause of the Saviour being rejected; prejudices of 
birth and nation — prejudices of education — preju- 
dices of authority— prejudices of ignorance, and stu- 
pidity! I say, prejudices of birth and nation : Men 
take pleasure in relying on the faith of their ancestors 
■ — upon the opinion and customs of their nation; 
fearing the trouble, flying from the labor, and the 
careful attention, of an exact examination. They 
already hold, as a matter determined, and certain, the 
opinions with which they have been prepossessed 
from their youth ; and they make use of these antici- 
pated sentiments, to regulate, and measure, truth and 
falsehood, in every thing propounded to them. No- 
thing is more unjust: This is the most general source 
of errors. Moreover, since the sciences have been 
better known — the liberty of the philosopher better 
established, and, in a word, since another method to 
discover truth has been taken upon that ground ; 
some have spoken, and written, against prejudices; 
and have evidently shown, that it is necessary wholly 
to renounce them; if we would search after truth 
with success. But how much more profitable is this* 
in religion, than in all other things? Elsewhere, it 
often happens that error is not of great consequence; 
here, it is of the last importance. In other things, 
prejudices only render us less capable of making a 
proper use of our reason; less capable of increasing" 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 297 



our knowledge, and our discoveries. Here they evi- 
dence us to be " natural men, who discern not the 
C( things of the spirit of God/' They close our 
mind, and our heart, against salutary and sanctifying 
truths. Every nation has its particular hindrances ; 
those of the Jews were extreme. Never were people 
more stupid! Prejudices of birth and education! 
They despised all other people; they believed that 
they alone were worthy that God should reveal him- 
self unto them. They were so much attached to 
things temporal, and to exterior and carnal worship, 
that they neither relished things spiritual, nor the 
promises of heavenly treasures. Pre-occupied with the 
the thought of a glorious Messiah, and a carnal and 
worldly kingdom ; they must not be spoken to upon 
any other subject. Whence did this proceed? From 
their cupidity, or their erroneous conceptions of the 
scriptures, which were, elsewhere, sufficiently ex- 
plained to undeceive them ? Or, it is probable, they 
did not distinguish, in the scriptures, divers periods, 
and divers seasons, of the abasement, and glory, of 
the Messiah, which should never be confounded. 
When they rejected the Saviour, it was, because their 
priests, and their teachers, did not believe in him : 
" Have any of the rulers of the pharisees," said 
they, " believed on him ; but this people, who know- 
" eth not the law, are accursed " Behold the pre- 
judice, imbibed from the authority, and knowledge, 
of the learned! Miserable prejudice! Some respect 
is due to persons of authority, and office, in the 
church. We ought to judge favorably, in general, 
of their understanding. But this good opinion ought 
not to blind any one, nor to be stronger than experi- 
ence, which has so often discovered, that, in all reli- 
gions, the priests have been more prejudiced than the 
people; more infatuated with their opinions, and 
more obstinate in defending them. Who doth not 



298 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 

know that the chief priests, the pharisees, and doctors 
of the law, resisted Jesus Christ, and his apostles; and 
hindered, as much as they could, the progress of the 
gospel? Who doth not know that the wise men of 
the world, the Grecian philosophers, and the hea- 
thenish priests, who had so much influence over the 
people, were greater enemies to the doctrine of Chris- 
tianity, than the rest of mankind ; and hindered the 
people from embracing it, by the prejudice of their 
authority, and their knowledge? We may add to 
these prejudices, those which we may call prejudices 
of ignorance, and stupidity, so common among the 
Jews, and even among their rabbies. ee Ye do err, 
6 c not knowing the scriptures/' said Jesus Christ : \ 
What stupidity was in the Capernamites, who said, 
"How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" 
What gross ignorance in Nicodemus, a doctor of the 
law ? " Can a man enter the second time into his 
" mother's womb, and be born ?" The mystery of, 
spiritually, eating Jesus Christ by faith, and that of 
regeneration, by the Holy Ghost, have been grounds 
of offence. What offences, and what errors, have 
figurative expressions, generally caused, and still do* 
cause, in relation to Christianity, when men are in- 
clined to take them literally? The third general 
source of offences, taken at Jesus Christ, and his doc- 
trine, is the passions; an evil, but a very fruitful 
source, which has the greatest share in the aversions 
and repugnancies, winch men have to the gospel. 
Interest — the great men of the world- — the rich— the 
Jewish priests — Heathens ; and frequently even those 
who were called Christians, revolted against it. 

The disinterestedness which religion prescribes, 
the estrangement from all covetousness, which it re- 
commends, with so much care A could not accommo- 
date it to men, whose idols were opulence and great- 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 299 



ness. The anxiety which is connected with the love 
of riches — the tenaciousness of credit and reputation 
— the hatred of Jesus Christ and his disciples, who 
came to astonish the world, and win the hearts of 
men, by beneficial miracles, and exemplary virtues; 
avarice — sensuality — the love of ease and pleasure ; 
have caused, and still cause, a considerable part of 
mankind to revolt against the morality of the Saviour. 
Finally, pride, more than all the rest, has caused the 
gospel to be regarded as an offence. Man was lost 
by pride — God intends to save him by humility. But 
the world approves not of this way : A Son of God 
abased — abject — a man of sorrows, has always been 
a great offence : In like manner, the mysteries of re- 
ligion are incompatible with unsanctified reason, 
which will receive nothing but what it finds conform- 
able to its pretended light. These mysteries imme- 
diately lose their cause at the tribunal of pride. Men 
have no inclination to believe them, or at least to 
embrace them, except in mutulating — in changing — 
in correcting them, according to their fancy. I may 
say the same of the precepts of religion. They are 
still more humiliating to the heart than its doctrines 
are to the mind. Such are those which have respect 
to patience in injuries — the forgiveness of offences — 
renouncing ourselves — the crosses of afflictions, and 
the obligations to suffer, even to martyrdom. Hence 
proceed the revoltings of the heart, with regard to 
piety ; hence the secret apostacy of the sons of men, 
who, without separating from the body of Jesus 
Christ, I mean his church, separate themselves from 
the spirit of the Saviour, and his interior communion, 
by rejecting his maxims, and by framing for them- 
selves other laws, and altogether, another way to 
walk in. It is upon this that we say 3 with so much 
propriety, " Blessed is he whosoever shall not be 
" offended in Jesus Christ" It is a happiness to 



300 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 

be attentive to the truth, and io be sufficiently ac- 
quainted with the word of God, not to be repulsed 
by what appears low, and contemptible, in the per- 
son, life, and death of Jesus Christ, It is a happi- 
ness, not to suffer ourselves to be influenced by pre- 
judices, which obscure our light, and render us inca- 
pable of properly examining, and knowing, the 
truth. It is a happiness, not to suffer ourselves to 
be led by the passions, which are bad guides, and the 
causes of so many dreadful falls. Consequently the 
proposition of Jesus Christ is true and certain : 
<c Blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in 

I may add, that if we can believe, at first, that it is 
a misfortune to be of the little flock, and to be found 
of the party opposite to the multitude, and often to 
persons who are distinguished and honored ; I find 
that it is a great happiness, on the other hand, to be 
of the party of men, who are the most wise — the most 
virtuous — the most enlightened ; who have more fully 
examined things. Never did any reasonable man be- 
lieve, that it was needful to follow the multitude to do 
evil, or to give, into all their opinions. Never did 
any one imagine, either that the most just discern- 
ment, and the greatest wisdom, are found among 
credulous and infatuated people, or among the learn- 
ed who are proved, and altogether interested. If 
then, in guarding against the prejudices which have 
caused Jesus Christ, and his religion, to be rejected, 
a man finds himself of the happy few, who are wise — 
attentive — enlightened — led by the spirit of God ; 
this flock, little in number, but considerable by the 
elevation of its sentiments, the firmness of its faith, 
and the purity of its manners. I ask, is it not happy ; 
yes, a thousand times more happy, than those minds 
which are either prepossessed or weak, than those 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 301 



hearts, whether cowardly or infidel, which are re- 
pulsed by the gospel : " Blessed is he whosoever 
" shall not be offended in me." 

Finally, blessed are they who keep themselves from 
the second death, and from inevitable ruin. The re- 
ligion of Jesus Christ, and his person, are not things 
which can be looked upon with indifference, and 
rejected with impunity. He gave up all for us ; 
ec Whosoever shall be ashamed of Jesus Christ 

and his words— of him shall the son of man be 
t( ashamed, when he shall come in the glory of his 
" Father" We cannot be offended at Jesus Christ 
and his doctrine, without losing the salvation which 
he willeth to bestow npon us. Jesus Christ is a 
s< Stone of stumbling ;" but upon whomsoever this 
stone shall fall, it will grind him to powder: They 
who reject this counsel of God, do it against them- 
selves, to their own loss, as is said of the chief priests 
and pharisees. They made war with God, and drew 
upon themselves sudden destruction. The Jews ex- 
perienced it very soon after the death of Jesus Christ : 
And who hath ever resisted the truth and prospered ? 
The principles of religion are an immoveable rock, 
which whoever attacks, whoever wounds, it is at his 
peril, and to his own confusion, that he doth it. " The 
" foundation of God standeth sure — let God be true 
<( and every man a liar" — a deceiver — or deceived. 
Consequently, happy and wise is he who is not offend- 
ed at Jesus Christ. We shall now conclude with 
some reflections, in which we are all concerned, 



302 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE AGAINST 



CONCLUSION. 



Nothing is more just, my Brethren, nothing 
more important to us, than to examine more and more, 
with attention, the religion of Jesus Christ, and to 
build up ourselves more fully in the truth we profess. 
To follow Jesus Christ from prejudice, from custom, 
perhaps even from interest, because in the time and 
place in which we live, our faith hath nothing in it 
which can hinder us from advancing* our fortune ; or, 
which may cause us to lose our property ; this is not 
what our Saviour requires • there was a time when a 
considerable part of us exposed to persecution, in 
danger of being deprived of all things, were enabled 
to believe that the voluntary sacrifices of our goods 
might be of some value ; and might serve to prove 
that we were not offended in Jesus Christ, nor in a 
suffering Saviour, nor even in the part that we have 
in his sufferings : But at this time, and with respect 
to those, who, tranquil in this country, have never 
been put to the proof; and in respect to our young 
people who have not seen, or were not of age to feel, 
the miseries which fell upon us ; and in respect to 
ourselves, in whom time effaces, by degrees, past im- 
pressions, can we believe that a certain attachment to 
the Christian religion, which costs us almost nothing, 
is sufficient to assure us, that we are of " The blessed 
fC number who are not offended in Jesus Christ" 
Ah ! my brother, be not self confident. You were 
offended, when you denied Jesus Christ like Peter i 
You were offended, when you withdrew like so many 
faint-hearted persons, who would no longer walk with 
him when he was hated and persecuted ; the cross. 



JESUS CHRIST, AND HIS DOCTRINE. 303 



which you should have taken up with courage and 
joy, appeared to you too heavy : Your shoulders bent 
under this burden — you sunk under its weight. Who 
knows what we should again do? Who knows what 
you would do ? You who have not been in a state to 
know yourselves by a proof, which is rather severe. 
Are you assured of being of that happy number who 
are not offended in Jesus Christ ? You are not of- 
fended in his person ; the time is past in which the 
contemptable appearance of Jesus Christ, and the 
mean condition of his apostles, caused men to revolt, 
and alienated them from the faith. The glory of 
Jesus elevated to heaven, the success of his gospel 
upon earth, and the state of Christianity which pre- 
vails in many places, and by the grace of God among 
us ; no longer give the Christian religion so terrific 
an appearance. But do our understandings accom- 
modate themselves to the greatness of its mysteries? 
do they see all their light without being dazzled by 
it, and without complaining that it injures their eyes? 
do they not shrink at the difficulties of reason, at the 
objections of infidelity, and the raillery of libertines ? 
In a word, are we grounded, and confirmed, in the 
truth of Christ ? Happy they who, in a similar dis- 
position, are not offended in him ! 

What ingratitude, my Brethren, to make a subject 
of offence, the humiliation of the God Man, who be- 
came poor only for our sakes, who divested himself for 
a time, of his exterior glory, only that he might raise 
us to the possession of his eternal glory : Who hath 
only sought by his actions — his doctrine — his suffer- 
ings, to rescue us from death, and to procure life for 
us ! What folly to believe that the wisdom of the 
world is a better way for us, than the wisdom of God \ 
The doctrine of Christ hath in vain been called 
"foolishness :" For that foolishness is wiser than all 



304 THE INJUSTICE OF PREJUDICE, &C. 



the wisdom of men ; " After that, in the wisdom of 
" God, the world by wisdom knew not God; it 
<s pleased God, by the foolishness of preaching, to 
■ ' save them that believe" Ah ! if the world knew 
the true grandeur, the beauty, the excellency, of the 
religion of Jesus Christ, how far would it be from 
being offended in him ! If even the morality that 
appears to us so contrary to many inclinations which 
nature seems to have given us, were well exam in ed, 
appreciated, applied to our consciences, and received 
in an honest and good heart, O ! how admirable, how 
sweet, how consolatory, would it appear ; how cal- 
culated to sanctify us, and make us happy. 

Blessed then are they who believe in Jesus Christ 
with so much faith, who embrace him with so much 
joy, as their Redeemer and their God ; that nothing 
shall be able to separate them from his love ! Happy 
theVj upon whom his doctrine, and his precepts, have 
made so lively an impression, that they are no longer 
hesitating concerning what they ought to believe, or 
what they ought to do ! Equally stedfast and immove- 
able, both in truth and piety. Let us be, my Bre- 
thren, of the small but happy number, and grow 
more and more in grace, and in the knowledge of our 
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ! Then we may be 
assured he will confess us before his Father, that he 
will acknowledge us before his disciples ; and that our 
foreheads, which have not blushed for him and his 
gospel, shall be crowned by his own hand, with the 
crown of immortality and glory. God grant it ! 
AMEN. 



I 



THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 
RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 

SERMON XL 

1 John, v Chap. 3 Verse. 

{e For this is the love of God, that we keep his com- 
mandments ; and his commandments are not 
grievous." 

My B rethrew 

Op all the erroneous thoughts, that are capable of 
preventing men from attaching- themselves to true 
piety, and making a progress therein, I know not 
any more common, or more dangerous, than the two 
following. The first is that of imagining, that a 
man may be a Christian without toil, or labor ; the 
second, altogether opposite, is that of persuading 
ourselves, that religion is too difficult, and that no 
one is able to observe its precepts, In the first, 
Christianity is represented as consisting in the exte- 
rior profession of the most pure religion * and men, 
although, in other respects, they exert very few 
efforts to become sanctified, flatter themselves, that 
they shall not fail to be saved, bv virtue of the hea= 



306 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 



verily doctrine, which they profess. In the second, 
the yoke of Christ is represented as a yoke, grievous, 
and insupportable ; men imagine that piety hath no 
charms ; they collect together, those parts of the 
Christian religion, which are the most painful, and 
then they greatly augment its difficulties. Those, 
who are in this last error, resemble the cowardly 
Israelites, who imagined that all the Canaanites were 
children of Anak, giants, before whom they could not 
stand. They spoke only of the number and strength 
of the people they were going to fight with, and of 
their walled cities, without speaking of the promise 
of God, and the succour, which they might expect 
from him. Those who are in the first of these 
errors, I mean those who believe, that the simple pro- 
fession of the truth, is sufficient to save us, resemble 
those carnal Jews, who, without ceasing, boasted of 
the privileges of their nation — who so often cried 
out; c< The temple of the Lord! the temple of the 
"Lord!" and who believed that, to be of the race 
of Abraham, and stamped with the seal of circumci- 
sion, was sufficient to obtain salvation. 

Christians ! we have but too many persons, among 
us, who incline to the one, or the other, of these 
extremes ; and who, by so doing, are very far from 
true piety. The first of these errors is very com- 
mon. Some people rest satisfied with being on the 
side of truth, while they are cold in the cause of 
God; or if, at most, they feel some zeal for religion, 
it is a zeal of temper, and constitution, and of a party 
spirit. In other respects, they have no thought of 
combating their passions, and are as worldly, and as 
destitute of inward religion, as those who live in the 
communion of corrupt churches. The other preju- 
dice, which causes religion to be looked upon as 
beset with thorns and briers, is, I acknowledge. 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 307 



ascribable rather to superstition, than to the followers 
of true Christianity. At the same time, it is not dif- 
ficult to find men, who, in order to excuse their cow- 
ardice, and vicious habits, are for crying down those, 
who have the courage to go on to full sanctifi cation ; 
representing to others, and to themselves, ideas of 
our duties, and the difficulties of piety, greatly be- 
yond what these things are in reality. My Brethren, 
the scriptures, admirable in all things, are particular- 
ly so, in the wonderful moderation, which they pre- 
serve, between these two errors, and in the remedies 
they prescribe for them. We see it in our text, 
which combats, so precisely, these two prejudices. 
<( This is the love of God" saith St. John, " That we 
C( keep Ms commandments." Is not this saying, that 
religion can never consist in the simple exterior pro- 
fession of it, and that it requires practice ? cc And his 
"commandments," addeth he, cc Are not grievous/* 
Does not this refute those who exaggerate the difficul- 
ties of piety ? Let us then, Christians, pursue the 
plan of St. John, in dividing our discourse into two 
parts. The first will discover to us, that the love of 
God consists, precisely, in the observance of his pre- 
cepts. And the second will show us, that his com- 
mandments can have nothing in them but what is 
pleasant, to those who are animated with the love of 
God. O that we may so know, and feel, these two 
truths, that we may henceforth bear the Saviour's 
yoke with joy, and be exact observers of his divine 
laws ! AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 

You know, my Brethren, that according to the 
"style of scripture, iC To keep the commandments of 

x 2 



* 



308 



THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOB 



" God '' signifies, to know his precepts; those which 
he hath given us, in the moral law, and those which 
lie hath given us in the gospel. To have them en- 
graven upon our hearts — to make them the rule of 
our conduct — to practice them ; and thus to accomplish 
the end for which they were appointed. In this, 
there is no difficulty ; you know also, that, " The love 
"of God/' is that lively, tender, and predominant 
affection, which has for its object, our Creator and 
our Father; an affection, widely extended, which has 
all the sentiments of esteem and admiration, that are 
due to this Supreme Being; to have all that desire to 
please him, and be eternally united to him, that a soul 
feels, when it is once persuaded, that the Lord is its 
sovereign good. You, no doubt, also comprehend, 
that when St. John saith, " This is the love of God, 
" that we keep his commandments" he means, that 
the love of God so essentially consists in this, that 
the observance of the laws of religion is the most 
natural effect, and the most sensible evidence, of the 
love of God. Let us now proceed to the proof of 
this truth. 

I prove it, first, by a negative proposition. If I may 
so speak; a proposition directly opposite to that of the 
text, and which, at the same time, proves the truth of 
it. " Where there is not the observance of the di- 
" vine law, there is not the love of God." I do not 
intend to say, that there cannot be any measure of 
love in a man, who does not keep all the precepts of 
Christianity. I suppose there is, in all hearts, some 
kind of the love of God, which is natural — invin'cible 
— necessary. In effect, to hope to be happy, to aim 
at the sovereign good, we cannot love any thing, ex- 
cept under the idea of good ; to esteem, to admire, 
the perfections of the Supreme Being, are general 
inclinations, and sentiments, which we oannot pre- 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 309 



vent ourselves from possessing*. This is a kind of 
natural love,- that we cannot erase from our minds. 
But I speak of a love which is predominant, and sin- 
cere ; and I maintain, that where there rs not the 
practice of the commandments of God, there is not 
this love. This is true, in two respects ; first, the 
violation of the commandments of God, so far from 
evidencing' any respect, any attachment to him, evi- 
dences a spirit of rebellion ; sentiments, desires, and 
affections, wholly opposite to what God requires. — - 
Thus the scriptures, denominate such men, t( Haters 
" of God/' '' Enemies to God/' who cc Fight against 
tc him." In the second place, where we find nothing 
but idleness, a neglect of doing good, and barrenness 
of virtues • there is not the love of God. Love is an 
active and fruitful principle ; <c Faith, without works, 
" is dead." You who say you love God, how shall 
your words be credited, if your actions say nothing 
about it ? If the fire of heaven is in a heart, what is 
the reason that it does not shine outwardly ? Are you 
afraid that its light will not be seen by men ? No, no, 
indolent, careless Christians ; I cannot believe that you 
love ! Labour to know, that (C This is the love of 
ss God, that we keep his commandments." 

I prove it, moreover, by the following second re- 
flection : " It is only love that can enable us to keep 
" the commandments of God, as we ought ; univer- 
" sally, constantly, freely, and joyfu'ly." Some 
will, undoubtedly, be ready to telF me, that we may 
observe the rules of the gospel, without loving God, 
or from other principles, besides that of his love ; for 
instance, from principles of hypocrisy — interest — vain 
glory, and self love. I answer, that without love, we 
may perform some external obedience — abstain from 
certain sins — repress certain faults, and practice, with 
some splendid appearances, the ceremonial duties of re- 

x 3 



310 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 

i 

ligion. But I affirm, that, without love, we shall never 
perform that true obedience, which hath all its marks ; 
at least these three ; universality, constancy, and joy 
in obeying*. T say universality, for to select that part 
of religion, which is agreeable to us, and which lays 
but little restraint upon us ; that which is calculated 
to please men ; that which may establish our reputa- 
tion amongst men, as devout and good Christians, can 
arise only from self-love ; it can only seek praise — - 
love applause, and flatter itself, that an outward form 
of religion will serve to cover our disgrace, and, even- 
tually, advance our fortune. But, to engage to fol- 
low all the rules of religion, without reserve, and 
without partiality ; to prefer interior virtues to all ex- 
terior tilings, not to labor to reform what is outward, 
till we have reformed that which is within ; to be so- 
licitous to subdue the passions of the heart, and our 
secret sins, rather than merely to correct what is irre- 
gular in cur manners ; and less exact in our outward 
conduct ; nothing can accomplish this, but the grace 
of God, and a principle of true love to him. No, my 
Brethren ; let us not deceive ourselves. The things 
most difficult to overcome in us, are the inclinations 
which we cherish ; certain habits, which time has 
consecrated ; certain favorite sins^ which we are 
always anxious to excuse and extenuate ; — this is the 
Agag-, which ought to be put to death, because "God 
(< loveth obedience better than sacrifice." Vain are 
other offerings; vain are the retrenchments of many 
exterior, and even interior, faults ; if the principal 
vices remain. True love says to us, what the King 
of Syria said to his captains : " Fight, neither with 
" small nor great, save only with the King of 
" Israel," , Destroy the General, and the enemies 
troops will be dispersed, or easily vanquished. iC Our 
"faith is the victory, that overcometh the ivorld 
our faith, and love, shall triumph over all ; but our 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 



311 



faith and love, inseparable virtues, are absolutely ne- 
cessary to produce universal obedience. 

But you will say, who can perform th?s universal 
obedience, and keep all the commandments ? Who 
can do it ? It is certain that no one can do it without 
divine grace. Who can do it without love ? No one 
who is mortal ! Who can do it perfectly, without fail- 
ing in any thing ? No one living* ; not even the most 
established believers. But, with grace and love, all 
Christians may form a resolution of keeping, and ful- 
filling, all the commandments, without reserve, and 
without exception. They may wish to observe the 
whole as perfectly as possible ; and they ought to en- 
deavor to do it with all their might. It is in their 
power, and it is their duty, to lament the imper- 
fections of their obedience, and to have recourse to 
the grace of God in Christ Jesus. Behold what love 
enables us to do ! ce This is the love of God, that 
tc we keep his commandments." 

Let us go farther still. It is love alone, that can 
render our obedience durable and constant. O ! what 
obstacles have we to surmount, both within and with- 
out ! We are inconstant, from our constitution • from 
the frailty of our nature ; that which pleases us one 
day, does not often please us the next ; that which 
we imagined we have gained to day, we often lose 
the following day ; corruption draws us away. How 
shall we always swim against the stream ? How shall 
we bear up against all difficulties ? My Brethren, it 
is neither the fear of man, nor respect for our repu- 
tation, nor decorum, nor the care of our own reputa- 
tion ; that can make us Stedfast, immovable, 
" always abounding in the work of the Lord." It 
is only love, produced by grace ; a principle always 
constant, and unchangeable, that can enable us to 



312 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 



observe constantly, and with perseverance, all the 
commandments of God. Finally ; the third condi- 
tion of obedience, is, that it be free — voluntary- 
performed with pleasure ; and it is love alone, that 
can produce such an obedience. To do, in spite of 
ourselves, that which God ordains, is to imitate the 
devils, who, with regret and murmuring, quitted the 
bodies of the possessed, because they could not resist 
the sovereign will of Jesus, who chased them away. 
Our services, our acts of obedience, ought not to pro- 
ceed from us, like the water which came out of the 
rock ; smitten several times, by the hand of Moses : 
They ought to flow, naturally, as the myrrh flows 
from the tree which produces it. It is a will bent 
upon evil, which constitutes the horror of sin. It is 
the will, determined on the side of goodness, which 
constitutes the value, and the crown, of virtue. But 
it is only true love to God, that gives this will, deter- 
mined upon good, and that imparts this joy in do- 
ing it. 

Now, for the third general reflection, to prove the 
truth of my text ! An obedience, which is universal, 
constant, and free ; is the only unquestionable cha- 
racter, the only infallible mark, of true love. We 
will take notice of the others, even the most plausi- 
ble ! I find three of them, which are very striking, 
and which are good, when they are united with obe- 
dience ; but which, alone, are equivocal, and insuf- 
ficient, to evidence a love which is real. The first is^-» 
zeal against false doctrines and heresies. This zeal 
emits a great blaze, but it has frequently too much 
fire ; it is not always conducted with prudence and 
charity. It is then temper — constitution — party 
spirit, which is the impelling motive ; rather than 
true love. Such an one distinguishes himself, on 
certain occasions, by a flaming zeal* when he has no 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 313 



great depth of the love of God in his heart. Ano- 
ther unsatisfactory evidence, is seen in those passions, 
those emotions, which are frequently felt in the holy 
assemblies * and particularly, at times, under affecting 
sermons ; and above all, at certain seasons of humi- 
liation ; on fast days, and at the holy sacrament. 
This is all very well ; it is, in some persons, a conse- 
quence, and an evidence, of the genuine love of God. 
But it is not always so. We have, a hundred times, 
seen men of keen sensibility, whose emotions, and 
tears, have not prevented their failings and habitual 
gins, and whose sighs and groans have been, at most, 
but equivocal signs of true love. In a word, it ap- 
pears, that it is difficult to go much further than to 
make divers sacrifices for religion ; and that there 
cannot be a more genuine mark of true love. A man 
forsakes his native land, abandons his wealth — his 
honors — his dignities ; separates himself from per- 
sons, the most dear to him ; a separation, or sacrifice, 
which is so painful ; what signs of true love to God, 
and to Christ, can be less equivocal ? At the same 
time, my Brethren, experience teaches us, that we may 
suffer the most painful things, and perform the most 
difficult duties, without the predominant love of God. 

A man may sacrifice his wealth, and, nevertheless, 
there are times when he cannot sacrifice a beloved 
lust — a reigning sin ! It is therefore true, that obe- 
dience, in every respect, to all the commandments of 
the Lord, is absolutely necessary. Ah ! when, in all 
things, and with respect to all the divine precepts, we 
perform an uniform obedience ; and when we behold 
in each of them, the stamp, and the seal, of divine 
authority ; this is, certainly, an unequivocal mark, a 
demonstrative proof, that the love of God reigns in 
us. cc This is the love of God, that ice keep his 
fe commandments.'' 



314 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 



My last observation is, that the nature of true love 
consists in obedience. This it is that God requires 
of us; this is the greatest difficulty in religion; it 
is a mark which includes all the characters, of that 
which was called among the philosophers, cc An 
cc essential property." It is a property which be- 
longs to all those who love God, to them only, and 
which belongs to them at all times. Never does any 
man truly love God, without he can say, with David, 
cc Thou art my portion, O Lord, I have said that I 
i( ivould keep thy words" 

Love necessarily produces a desire, to resemble the 
object loved. But how can an object so holy, be re- 
sembled^ but by holiness — righteousness — purity, and 
love ? And this is what his precepts require of us. 
Love necessarily produces a design to please the ob- 
ject loved. The inclinations are regulated according* 
to his; all means are sought to serve him ; nothing* 
k too valuable for him ; assiduity — devotedness — 
offerings — acts of kindness,, are all employed ! If, 
therefore, we love God, the nature of this love impels 
us to do all that God requires, and to render him an 
obedience, the most extensive — the most lively — the 
most prompt, in our power : c< This is the love of 
t( God, that we keep his commandments.'* 

Thus the first truth of my text is sufficiently estab- 
lished. Let us now proceed to the second, which will 
prevent an objection. The commandments of God, 
say some, are too harsh ; how can we keep them ? 
It is not from deficiency of love to God, that we often 
fail in the observation of his laws, it is because these 
laws are above our strength : K It is higher than 
£C heaven, what canst thou do." No, saith St. John, 
this is a false pretence ; (C The word of God is nigh 
" unto thee, even in thy heart" The yoke of Christ 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 315 



is not so heavy as you would have us believe, and the 
true mark of the sincerity of your love is, when you 
no longer find the commandments difficult ; for to 
him who loveth, " His commandments are not griev- 
" ous." This is what we shall proceed to consider 
in the second part. 



SECOND PART. 

In order to elucidate, and prove, what the apostle 
here advances, which appears, at first, a great para- 
dox ; let us remove the errors, and the extravagant 
sense, which may be attributed to this proposition. 
" The commandments of God are not grievous,'* 
" burthensome" or " heavy as it signifies in the 
original. 

Let us observe, in the first place, that the com- 
mandments of God appear grievous, and burthen- 
some, to a man, in a state of corrupt nature ; and it 
is in reference to the unregenerate, in particular, that 
the scripture says so many things which so clearly 
demonstrate the difficulty of our duties, and the ex- 
ertions necessary in order to perform them. It speaks 
of the "Cross" — of "self-denial" — of a "strait 
"gate" — of " plucking out our right eye" — of 
" cutting off our right hand" — of " crucifying the 
"flesh" — of "mortifying the old man" Expres- 
sions which appear harsh, and opposite to what St. 
John says of the easiness of the commands of God. 
We acknowledge, that a man, abandoned to himself, 
and to his passions, who knows only the impulses of 
corrupt nature, who, by a train of vicious habits, has 
fortified these bad natural inclinations; must feel a 
great conflict between his inclinations, and the rules 



316 *THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 



of the gospel ; a great repugnance to submit to them, 
and great difficulty in conforming to them. There is 
no mai"^ who, in the first stages of his conversion, is 
not, more or less, conscious of his difficulties : For 
they are, more or less, violent, accordingly as vices 
have, more or less, reigned in the heart ; and as vici- 
ous habits have been more or less strengthened by 
the continuance, and repetition, of the acts. Who can 
doubt that every thing appears frightful, in the first 
plan which is laid down for a new life? Who doubts 
whether we do not stop — whether we do not, more 
than once, recede — lament, the reluctance of our will, 
and pour forth tears, when it is necessary, thus to speak, 
to separate from ourselves, and to forsake, that which 
is most dear to us ? In these moments, we often 
will, and unwill ; we hesitate — we vary our resolu- 
tions ; and are often ready to abandon what we have 
just begun. But change the circumstances; sup- 
pose a man who, in his early youth, has not united 
to his natural corruption, bad and dangerous habits 
of actual sins ; a man already disposed by a good 
education-, and by the first principles of piety, which 
grace hath gradually formed within him. Suppose, 
I say, that such a man advances to real, and entire, 
converson ; without doubt, he will have less violence 
to offer to himself, and will make fewer complaints of 
the yoke of Jesus Christ. Suppose another person, 
in whom sin, for a long time, has reigned, in all its 
strength, but, at length, the favorable dispensations 
of providence — dreadful calamities — long and violent 
illnesses ; take away, in spite of him, the objects of 
his passions : A man with an emaciated body, whose 
flesh is mortifying, and over whom reason no longer 
exerts its influence : A man, above all, who, whilst 
providence fights outwardly against him, experiences 
inwardly the triumphant efficacy of grace; this man, 
wholly changed, if he hath still sighs and tears, will 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 317 



evince — not that they are the emotions of repug- 
nance, and rebellion, but the indications of his 
shame, and regret, for the past : And he will begin 
to feel, that, what formerly appeared to him, so 
odious, and so impracticable, is a mere trifle, and 
that there is justice, and, even pleasure, in obeying 
the divine commandments. 

Let us observe, in the second place, my Brethren, 
that when St. John tells us, that the " Command- 
<c merits of God are not grievous," he supposes, that, 
on our part, we act uprightly, and that we exert our- 
selves to the utmost, to obey them. No, he does not 
intend to furnish us with a pretext for idleness, and 
negligence : He does not mean, that the indolent 
man, the negligent, and inactive professor, who is 
not disposed to do any thing, nor to submit to the 
least self-denial, can find, in the commandments of 
God, a facility, which accords with his supineness ; 
as if God would give him grace and glory, without 
any exertion on his own part. This would be to 
form a strange idea of religion, an idea, unworthy of 
God, and of the greatness of the riches, which he has 
reserved for us ; it would be to imagine, as perhaps 
many do, that, by means of a dead faith, by expect- 
ing grace with our arms folded, and, persuading our- 
selves, that Jesus Christ has done all, we have nothing 
more to do, than to believe in him, and take our ease. 
If this be what is meant by the yoke of Christ being 
easy, we ought to say, that his religion leads us to 
licentiousness, rather than to true piety; and we can 
never say, with St. John, that the (C Love of God 
" consists in keeping his commandments." But we 
may say, in respect to the Christian, who labors ; 
who, not content with his first attainments, endea- 
vors, every day, to add to their number * — to whom 
the first victory opens the way to the second ; — to 



/ 



318 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 

such a Christian, we may say, the commandments of 
God become, gradually, sweet and easy; his power 
increases ; the weight of his burden diminishes ; he 
experiences much difficulty, at first ; he is oppressed 
under its pressure ; but afterwards, he finds it easy, 
and light. Thus it is with a sick man recovering ; 
at first, he ventures, with difficulty, to rise from his 
bed, and to exert some efforts to walk ; he finds every 
exertion difficult, and every burthen heavy ; but, at 
last, after some attempts, painful in the beginning, 
he attains to a state of strength, and vigor. Thus the 
Christian has no longer any difficulty J he surmounts 
the toil, and the pain ; he runs, as the scripture ex- 
presses it, in the way of God's commandments. How 
could he do it, if it were not, that the Command- 
" ments of God are not grievous ?" 

After these two general observations, which have 
already removed the greatest difficulties of our text, 
I shall mention three things, in order to demonstrate 
its truth. The first is, that the commandments are 
pleasant, as well as just, in themselves. The second 
is, that they are easy, in comparison with those of false 
religions ; and even with those of the law. The third 
is, that they are easy, on account of the various helps, 
which God affords us, to accomplish them. 

I say, in the first place, that the commandments of 
God, considered in themselves, are so excellent — so 
just — so adapted to our interest; that they can ap- 
pear too burthensome only to men who are unjust and 
unreasonable. On other occasions, we have endea- 
vored to show you, how many of the precepts of reli- 
gion are admirable — equitable — full of wisdom and 
sweetness ; and, consequently, worthy of all our obedi- 
ence. " The commandment is holy, just > and good/' 
iaith St. Paul, in the seventh of Romans. It is holv 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOYE. 319 



and just, in itself; it is an emanation of the equity of 
God, and a conformity to his nature, It is good, with 
respect to us ; adapted to the light of our purified un- 
derstandings, and conducive to our welfare. In re- 
ference to the "Law of faith :" this commandment 
ought not to appear difficult, when we have examined 
the just motives, by which religion excites us, to re- 
ceive the truths which it reveals to us ; when we have 
considered the proofs of divine authority, which this 
religion carries in itself; and when we feel our need, 
of having recourse to the merit of our Redeemer. In 
reference to the commandment of <: Repentance ;'• 
this commandment ought to appear, neither difficult, 
nor unjust; since nothing is more reasonable, than, 
in some sense, to expiate sin, by real regret for 
having committed it ; and to condemn the past, which 
we are no longer able to recal, unless by disavowing 
it, and seeking pardon and grace of the Almighty. In 
connection with the moral commandments, of which 
we have the abridgments in these two rules: " Thou 
i( shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, 
c< and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." 
Or, if you please, in these words of St. Paul, " That 
" we should live soberly, righteously, and godly." 
Can we doubt, that our reason — our conscience — our 
relationship to God, and to other men like ourselves — 
the care we ought to take to preserve our health — 
our reputation — our peace — our tranquillity : Can 
we doubt, I say, that all these things engage us to fol- 
low these divine laws? In respect to the exterior 
worship of religion, and to the acts of piety towards 
God : this worship is so spiritual, and so easy — these 
acts are so little burthensome, that hypocrites them- 
selves, or the weakest Christians, can, at least, per- 
form them outwardly. How much more then, ought 
those who love God, to practice them with joy, by a 
more perfect obedience of the soul, as well as of the 



520 



THE 



COMMANDMENTS 



OF GOD 



body ? The second thing' which I intend to say, my 
Brethren ; and which will very well accord with what 
we are about to advance; is, that the commandments 
of God, under the gospel, are easy, in comparison 
with, and in opposition to, those of false religions, 
and those of the Mosaic religion. T say, in the first 
place, in comparison with those of false religions. 
The world has been full of them, and it is but too 
much so still. But survey them all, and you will find, 
that they have equally required a thousand burthen^ 
some things, of which reason could neither perceive 
the utility, nor approve the usage, and which contri- 
buted nothing towards the renovation of the souL 
Why so many external practices ? why these abla- 
tions — these sprinklings-— these burthensome ceremo- 
nies — incenses — sacrifices — tearing of the flesh? 
These religions require blood ! the blood of animals 
was not sufficient ; it was often deemed necessary to 
pour out that of men; even upon the altars! But 
the Christian religion, does not require of us, costly 
hecatombs — altars— magnificent temples— scrupulous 
observances ; burthensome, by their number, and by 
the exact precision required in the practice of them. 
It does not require an infinite expence to maintain 
the worship of God, an expence burthensome to the 
people, and to individuals; it doth not require us to. 
pour out the blood of our children, or that of our 
own ! It exacts tears, but they are the tears of re- 
pentance ; and even these have often their sweetness. 
It reluctantly recommends some fastings, to assist us 
in keeping under our bodies ; it requires only the 
rectification of our judgment — the purification of 
our souls- — the love of man to God — peace among 
men — the happiness of society^ — the tranquillity of 
our consciences ; and, finally, our present, and 
future felicity ! Ought this then to be a burthen 
to us ? 



/ 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 321 

We have said, in the second place, that the com- 
mandments of God are not grievous, if we compare 
them with those under the law. I speak not of the 
moral precepts, which were common to believers of 
old, and to us; and in respect to which, they were, in 
reality, obliged to the same spiritual duties as we 
are ; but I speak of the yoke of ceremonies. With 
what a multiplicity of ordinances were they loaded? 
It was chiefly in reference to this,, that Jesus Christ 
said, i( My yoke is easy, and my burden is light;" 
in opposition to the yoke of Moses, and to the bur- 
thens with which the Pharisees loaded their disciples. 
Thus St. Peter saith, in the Acts of the Apostles,, 
that all these ordinances, were a yoke, " That net- 
cc ther their fathers nor themselves were able to 
cc bear."' But it is from this yoke, that the Son of 
God hath made us free : <c He hath blotted out the 
" hand-writing of ordinances that was against u$ y 
cc ichich was contrary to us ;" as the apostle saith, 
in the second of Collossians. Let us, moreover, con- 
sider, that to the practice of ceremonies, truly or- 
dained of God, the Jewish doctors had added, what 
was called the traditions of the elders, and a thousand 
minute observances, of a weakening, and embarass- 
ing, nature ; which Jesus Christ hath absolutely con- 
demned, and retrenched. In a word, we should con- 
sider, that the precepts, even of the moral law, were 
ordained under the Mosaical covenant, with rigorou$ 
conditions ; Do this, and thou shalt live !" ** And 
" cursed is every one, that continiieth not in all 
tc things, which are written in the book of the law, 
<x to do them!" This proves, that that covenant was 
a covenant of rigour, a covenant of justice, and, con- 
sequently, a covenant which was grievous, and bur* 
thensome. What a law was that, which could not 
suffer, hi man, the least infirmity, and under which, 
" He wko offmded in&ne pokrt ivas guilty of all 



322 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 

But Jesus Christ has brought us a covenant of mer- 
cy ; of which the conditions are altered, since faith 
is substituted in the place of perfect obedience, and 
in which, sincerity of heart, joined to the merits of 
Christ, which covers the defects, and imperfections, 
of our holiness ; yields to that gracious promise ; C( I 
" will spare them, as a man spareth his own son 
*' that serveth him." 

« Let us not forget this essential difference between 
the two covenants ; which is, that the law, considered 
simply in itself, in exacting a perfect obedience, gives 
man no power to accomplish it. Thus, Pharaoh, and 
his officers, while imposing a painful task upon the 
Israelites, would not furnish them with the means to 
perform it. Thus it was, that the commandments of 
God had all their weight upon man, without strength, 
and without help. But, under the gospel, God com- 
mands, and works at the same time, in the hearts of 
the righteous : He accompanies his laws with the in- 
terior power of his Spirit, which enables us to keep 
them. He writes his laws in our hearts, and, as he 
promised in the Old Testament, he causes us to 
" Walk in his statutes" Blessed advantages of the 
covenant of grace over the law ! which enable us so 
justly to say, that exonerated from the vain ordi- 
nances of the Pharisees, discharged even from the 
ceremonial ordinances of Moses ; delivered in other 
respects, from the rigors, and curses, connected 
with the moral law ; and assisted, sustained, as we 
are, by the ministry of the Spirit — by power from on 
high — -by the interior gifts of grace ; the command- 
ments of God can be no longer grievous to us, as 
they were under the law. 

My Brethren, we have told you, that we have a 
third consideration to propose, in order to prove the 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 323 



truth of our text ; which is, that we have divers means 
under the gospel, to facilitate the practice of the com- 
mandments of God. Yes ! I find, that under the 
gospel, and in reference to true believers, we have, at 
least, five things which render the commandments of 
God practicable; and which enable us to find a 
pleasure, and a sweetness, in the observance of them. 
The first is grace ; which is the first gift that God 
bestows upon those whom he is willing to save ; this 
is the great gift, the source of all the rest : This it 
is that opens the eyes, that charms the heart ! This 
is the sweet virtue, the preventing delight, which 
gains our souls, and which causes us to find all our 
pleasure in the law of the Lord ! This is the oil of 
gladness, the unction of the Holy One, which fortifies 
the Christian champion, and renders him capable of 
wrestling — of running — of overcoming, in the career 
of salvation ! Grace renders us capable of every 
thing ; it enables us to say, " I can do all things, 
" through Christ, who strengthened me." St. John 
tells us, that " He who is born of God, overcometh 
Ci the world." And who is he that is born of God, 
but the believer, regenerated by grace ? 

The second thing, which renders the command- 
jnents of God sweet, and easy, to us, is love. <c This 
" is the love of God, that ive keep his command- 
" ments, and his commandments are not grievous.'' 
To whom ? to those who love God; " To those who 
" are born of God." Grace and love render every 
thing easy. " The love of God, which is shed abroad 
" in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, is given unto 
" us ;" makes every burthen light-— every work easy 
— -every pain sweet. My God ! when we love thee 
with all our heart, can we dispute concerning what 
is great and small, in obedience ? Can we say, this 
belongs to me, but the_ remainder is not suitable to 

y 2 



324 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 



me ? Love is our Nazariteship, and, like Sampson, 
stronger than the Philistines; upheld by principles 
different from the men of the world ; we carry, with 
joy, the burthen, which appears insupportable to 
those who are strangers to love ! 

The third source of that facility, which the righte- 
ous find in the commandments of God, is hope. That 
hope which animates men, which makes the world 
appear little. The hope which forms heroes and 
conquerors ! This it is, also, which forms Christian 
heroes; who endure all things, like their Saviour, 
Jesus Christ, * For the joy ichich is set before 
" them." Hope, is a consequence of love, aft effect 
of the promises of God, which our faith embraces. 
These promises are more express, more clear, under 
the gospel, than under the law : ce Christ hath brought 
tc life; and immortality, to light, by the gospel." 
When, by our hope, we see invisible things, when 
w r e contemplate our eternal reward ; then this hope 
causes us, " To enter into that which is within the 
tc veil " What then is that of which we are not 
capable ? Weak objects of the world ! deceitful ob- 
jects ! seducing charms ! you lose your splendor ; 
you almost disappear before our eyes ! The world 
attacks us ; tempests agitate our vessel ; but, " In 
" all these things we are more than conquerors !" 
<c Hope is an anchor of the soul, both sure and 
stedfast;" which makes us immovable in the rudest 
tempests ; and, in spite of all, we declare, that u The 
" commandments of God are joyous to us!" 

The fourth thing which renders the commandments 
of God sweet and easy, to good men, is, long experi- 
ence. Habit is a second nature ; and it is astonish- 
ing, in the things of the world, how much a long 
custom, if I may so speak, will, gradually, .render 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LQV£. 325 



easy, that which, at first, appeared impracticable 
When I hear a David ; who crieth out, " God / 
" how I love thy law!" Who finds it sweeter than 
honey; more desirable than gold ; and, who saith to 
God, " Thy lazo is in my inward parts," and cc lo ! 
cc I come to do thy will, O God V s When I hear a 
St. Paul ; who calls the greatest afflictions light — 
who glories in tribulations — who defies life and death, 
things present, and things to come, to separate him 
from the love of God ! When I behold martyrs 
hastening to death, as to the distribution of crowns; 
glorifying God upon scaffolds, and in the flames ! I 
ask, whence cometh this ? Were the saints, at first, 
so courageous, and so firm ? Perhaps some have 
been enabled, by extraordinary grace, to evidence 
this strength, at a time when they had but just en- 
tered upon the career of salvation. But, in general, 
it is a consequence of virtue, confirmed by long habit. 

Finally ; that which causes the faithful, of the 
highest order, such as the St. Johns, the St. Pauls, 
and the Davids ; to find nothing grievous in the com- 
mandments of God, is the " Assurance of salvation/ r 
which they have acquired. Ah ! when we have at- 
tained to this, all is done ! Undeceived, then, in respect 
to the false things of the world ; we believe we have 
sustained no loss when we have lost them. Almost 
insensible, even to the real losses of the things of this 
life, we suffer them with patience ; certain that, 
" That better part shall not be taken from us." 
Besides, piety, which hath produced in us so many 
consolations ; efforts, which, by the paternal care of 
our God, have conducted us, by little and little, even to 
this sweet — this enchanting certainty of salvation; 
induces us, a thousand times, to bless, both the com- 
mandments of God, which have led us to our duty ; 
the motives which have animated us to practice them; 

y 3 



326 the Commandments of god 



and the help which has aided us to accomplish them. 
Then, then ! " The commandments of God are not 
ie grievous !" 



CONCLUSION. 

This is sufficient; and it is perhaps more than 
sufficient, fully to convince you of what I intended to 
say ; and I have not time to observe all the advant- 
ages we shall derive from it. The first truth of my 
text gives us to understand, that a simple profession 
of religion is not sufficient, without the observance of 
the commandments of God ; and that in vain a man 
flatters himself that he loves God, if he observes not 
his precepts. 

My Brethren ; how important are both these things? 
I conjure you to keep them in remembrance! The 
outward profession of true Christianity, without its 
reality, without interior sanctification, cannot suffice, 
either for the present life, or the future. It cannot 
suffice for the present: witness the ancient Jews: 
witness the great number of churches destroyed in 
Asia — in Africa: witness ourselves, Refugees, whom 
the name of reformed Christians, whom the profession 
of purified Christianity, could not preserve from the 
most dreadful ruin, that, perhaps, ever took place! A 
simple exterior profession^ will be still much less able 
to save us, at the last day. In vain shall we then 
say, " Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name — 
" and in thy name done many wonderful works f" 
If we have nothing better to say, it will not prevent 
that terrible voice, c< I know you not ; depart from 
"me all ye workers of iniquity " In vain shall any 



✓ - 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 327 



one conceal himself, under the veil of religion ! In 
vain did Joab attempt to save himself in the tabernacle 
— to secure himself there! It could not secure his 
life; he was torn from his refuge, and separated from 
the altar ; the horns of which he had taken hold of. 
In vain shall carnal professors say/ that they have 
lived in the church— that they have believed in Jesus 
Christ — that they have heard the word — that they 
have received the sacrament ! All this shall not be 
able to shelter them from divine vengeance. The 
marks, which we shall have borne of the truth, known 
and professed ; but the laws of which we shall have 
neglected ; will be so many proofs against us, upon 
which God will judge us. What then is to be done? 
Let us love God, and keep his commandments, from 
a principle of love. In vain does any one flatter him- 
self, that he loves God, if he obey not his laws. Let 
us then love him ; " Not in word, neither in tongue ; 
" but in deed, and in truth !" What is the use of 
having the voice of Jacob, if we have the hands of 
Esau ? To speak well of religion, and to do wickedly, 
will never be the way to draw upon us the blessing of 
heaven. If we are the children of Abraham, let us 
Jove like Abraham, with a love which finds nothing 
too difficult; which braves all dangers; which exe- 
cutes all commands ! God said to this father of the 
faithful, "Now I know that thou fearest me, seeing 
" thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, 
"from me V 

When we shall observe all his commandments, in 
proportion to our exactness in keeping them, God 
shall say to us, " Now I know that thou lovest me," 
But, on the other hand, although we may talk, yet, 
while we neglect to observe the commandments of 
the Most High, he will say to us, I know that you do 
not love me. Nor can we ourselves, Christians, have 



328 THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD 



positive proof that we truly love God, if we obey not 
his will; and if we do not obey it without reserve — ■ 
voluntarily— cheerfully ; and with a sentiment of joy, 
in the performance of it ! 

In order to excite us to do this, what can be a 
stronger motive, than that which St. John holds out 
to us ; and which we have endeavored to prove ? 
" That the commandments of God are not grievous." 
We have already opposed them to false religions : but 
I will go still farther ; and I aver, that when men mix, 
and unite, any thing with the religion of Jesus Christ; 
they make it much more burthensome than God hath 
made it ! Our adversaries, of the Roman Catholic 
Church, reproach us with the unrestrained liberty of 
our religion. Why ? Because it is the religion of St. 
John; and because we prefer the just commandments 
of God, to those of superstition ! Rome appears not 
to have found religion sufficiently difficult : it was ne- 
cessary to go back to the ancient ceremonies, to Mo- 
saic ordinances, and to the traditions of men. They 
have endeavored to add to it, an infallible authority, 
to which all must bow down, in what relates to faith. 
They have joined to it the yoke of celibacy — that of 
auricular confession — that of the distinction of meats 
and days; and I know not how many others! This 
is not all c the princes, the sovereigns, who profess 
this corrupt religion; accustomed to its maxims, to its 
false zeal, and imitators of the example of him who is 
called ihe head of it; have striven, in their mad ca- 
reer, to add to the weight of the maxims of that reli- 
gion : or, to speak more properly, to press its maxims 
into practice; in proportion to the authority, and 
power, with which they have thought themselves in- 
vested. In those times, these gods of the earth have evi- 
dently proved, and sometimes still evidently prove, that 
the Commandments of men have neither the justice, nor 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 329 



the clemency, of the commandments of God. If there 
be any thing in the world grievous to man, it is that 
of striving to make him obey without reason ; to force 
him, in spite of himself, to endeavor to command his 
conscience, without persuading it ; and to drag this 
man, by violence to do that, which is against his will. 
Thus it was, that they acted some years ago towards 
us ; and posterity can no more forget it, than all people, 
at the present day, can be ignorant, that they have 
seen sovereigns, who have assumed the characters of 
gods; but very different from those of the true God; 
since the Lord requires of us only a voluntary obedi- 
ence — an obedience springing from love — an obedi- 
ence arising from persuasion ; and from the just mo- 
tives which excite us to obey freely. It will always 
be remembered, that they treated men w r orse than 
slaves; and by the words, cc l WILL;" have made 
them change their faith, their religion, as if they were 
the masters of the light of their understanding, and 
the sentiments of their heart. O heavens! What 
have thousands of captive consciences suffered by it ! 
And what is still suffered by as many enlightened 
souls, who find themselves under its yoke. O! how 
many of you have groaned, my Brethren, in conse- 
quence of sinking under the burthen of the command- 
ments of men ! Let us all confess, that those of our 
Sovereign Master, are much less painful, and infi- 
nitely more pleasant, than their's. 

But there is another supplement, which should be 
added in the explication of my text. I have said, 
that, in opposition to false religions, and even to the 
law of Moses, the commandments of God, under the 
gospel, were not burthensome. I will add, that they 
were not so, if you compare them to the world and sin. 
Those of the world are often so hard, that they appear 
insupportable. For instance; by their false maxims, 



330 THE COMMANDMENTS OP GOD 

of a false point of honor, they have, in some sense, 
rendered the laws of Jesus Christ, against revenge, 
absolutely impracticable! They have rendered the 
execution of many precepts a hundred times more 
difficult, by punctilious customs, which serve for no 
other purpose, than to lead men secretly to indemnify 
themselves, for the privation of things unjustly pro- 
hibited ; or, which are permitted only under cer- 
tain burthensome conditions. The world requires 
anxieties — compliments— compliances! An assiduity 
— an exactness, requisite to secure preferment, and 
prosperity ; which very far surpasses all that religion 
exacts to make us holy. The yoke of the passions 
is also, undoubtedly, a thousand times heavier than 
that of virtue. How much pains do avarice — ambi- 
tion—voluptuousness ; require of those who strive to 
satisfy them : like the centurion in the gospel, " They 
" say to one go, and he goeih; to another come, and 
" he cometh ; to another, do this, and he doeth it." 
At the same time all this appears easy, because men 
love to follow, and gratify, their passions. And how 
can w r e find the commandments of God difficult, if our 
love to him, the desire of pleasing him; if gratitude 
for the gift of Jesus Christ our Lord, and the care of 
our salvation, animate and impel our exertions? 

Finally, my Brethren, if we have almost persuaded 
you, that the commandments of God are just in them- 
selves — that they are easier t! an those of other reli- 
gions — than those of men — than those of the world 
- — than those of our passions ; and thai they are wor- 
thy of God, and calculated to render us happy : Let 
us endeavor, let us endeavor, in good earnest, to 
practice them ! They are easy with divine grace. 
Well then, ask for that grace! God opens to him 
that knocketh ! Pray to him ; implore the Divine 
aid; be ye like the hart which panteth after the 



RENDERED EASY BY HIS LOVE. 331 



water-broBks ! Let your thirsty soul cry for salutary 
grace, and ask for that water which springeth up 
into everlasting life! The commandments of God 
are easy when we love. Love then him who is su- 
premely amiable ; endeavor to increase this love in 
yourselves. The burthen of Jesus Christ is rendered 
easier when we have respect to the recompence. 
Enter then into that state, in which you shall have a 
true and well grounded hope. 

The commandments of God become pleasant, and 
easy, by practice and habit. Begin then immedi- 
ately to conquer yourselves — to subdue your passions 
— to follow the divine precepts • and, I do not say in 
a day, but by degrees, you will find sweetness in that 
which appeared to you the most painful. Finally, 
endeavor to obtain the assurance of salvation. It will 
be your recompence here below, while waiting for 
glory ! God grant that our faithfulness, and our love, 
may never fail ; and that the help of the Lord may 
finally conduct us> to the perfect possession of the 
happiness which he hath promised to our persever- 
ance ! To him be praise, honor, and glory,, world 
without end I AMEN. 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF THE JUBG. 

MENTS OF GOD. 

SERMON XII. 

Isaiah 3 xxvi Chap. 9 and 10 Verses, 

S{ For when thy judgments are in the earth } the 
inhabitants of the world will learn righteousfiess. 
JLetfavar he skeicri to the wicked, yet will he not 
learn righteousness : In the land of uprightness 
will he deal unjustly, and will not behold the 
majesty of the Lord." 

My Brethren, 

was an act of prudence, as well as of piety,, in 
David and the elders of Israel, who humbled them- 
selves, fell upon their faces, covered with sackcloth, 
intreated mercy of the Lord, and offered unto him 
burnt-offerings ; when the destroying angel made 
dreadful havock among the people. David being 
informed by the prophet Gad, that God, in order to 
punish his pride, had resolved to strike his kingdom 
with one of three plagues ; famine, war, or pestilence : 
After having submitted to one of these terrible chas- 
tisements, he saw the angel, with his sword, beginning 




THE USE AND ABUSE, &C. 333 



to desolate Jerusalem itself; and already arrived 
<c at the floor of Araunah, the Jebusite." The effect 
immediately followed the threatening, and already, 
seventy thousand victims had fallen under the exter- 
minating* sword. But O ! how happy were this king 
and his people, that God, touched by their humilia- 
tion, said to the angel, cc It is enough, stay now thine 
<s hand;" and that he commanded him, iS To put up 
" his sword into its sheath !" 

My Brethren ; kings and people are not always 
informed by prophets, such as Gad, of the judgments 
which God intends to send among* them. Men have 
not always their eyes sufficiently open, to see the 
angel, who makes the desolation or his sword, already 
lifted up, over their heads ; at the same time, with- 
out any other prophets than the ordinary ministers 
of the gospel, are not these men often sufficiently 
threatened with the judgments of God ? Are not 
things which we ought to fear of the justice of the 
Sovereign Judge of the world, denounced with suffi- 
cient earnestness ? Hath not God, above all, a voice 
still stronger, still more striking, than that of his 
messengers? which is that of his judgments, which 
have already fallen upon the provinces, upon the 
nations, which surround us. The perils and miseries 
of which may easily become our own. It is this voice 
which crietti unto us, cc Hear the rod, and him who 
t: hath appointed it!" 

Ah ! there is no need for us to see the angel him- 
self, with hi s mortal sword: The effects speakforthem- 
selves, and when, by impoisoned arrows, thousands 
of men are seen to fall, then or never is the time to 
humble ourselves— to repent— to endeavor to disarm 
G( d. Happier still, if it be done before the evil hath 
overtaken us, than when it hath alreadv made dread- 



334 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



ful ravages amongst us. More happy at that period, 
than David ; since he did not arrest the evil by his 
prayers and sacrifices, till it had already reached the 
capitol, the heart of his kingdom; till the seat of re- 
ligion, and the throne, were upon the point of being 
ravaged. Is it possible that, on like occasions, thev 
should be so insensible as not to be aifected, and lead 
to conversion ? Is it possible that, when God even 
strikes so many other mortals, who are not more 
criminal than we, and spares us, showing us mercy ; 
that his goodness and severity united should not teach 
us to turn from our sins ? Dreadful hardness ! con- 
trary to the dictates of nature — of reason — of our own 
interest — to the example of numberless sinners, whom 
the judgments of God have led to serious reflection ! 
A hardness, at the same time, of which the prophet 
complained in my text, when in distinguishing those 
who profit by the judgments of God, and those who 
harden themselves under his rod, and abuse even 
mercy itself, he saith to the Lord, " When thy 
"judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of 
" the world will learn righteousness. Let favor be 
" shewed to the wicked, yet will he not learn righte- 
" ousness : In the land of uprigh tness will he deal 
" unjustly t and will not behold the majesty of the 
" Lord" 

My Brethren, in times like these, we easily under- 
stand the cause of the ordinance of our rulers, who 
call us to prayer and fasting ; and, on this occasion, 
our hearts have spoken to us before them. Here is 
a heart filled with horror, for fear of the destructive 
pestilence ; and a .mind full of consternation, in con- 
sequence of the almost general derangement of for- 
tunes and establishments- Here the love of our 
families, grief, or the fear of seeing our houses ruin- 
ed, our hopes blasted^ our labors and establishments 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 



335 



turned upside down ; here, in a word, the horror of 
death, and a death, accompanied with every thing 
that can make it most dreadful, comes to awaken in 
us the most lively sentiments of nature and religion, 
and induces us to enter into the pious views of the 
fathers of our country. No, no ; undoubtedly, we 
will not illude to day, their wise designs for our pre- 
servation, as we have too often done, we will be of 
the number of those who at last learn righteousness, 
<c When the judgments of God are in the earth 
And God grant that there may be no one among us, 
of those unhappy wretches, who are equally insensi- 
ble to judgments and, mercies, and who behold not 
the majesty of the Lord. We shall exhibit to you 
two different portraits : The one, of sinners who are 
converted, when the wrath of God is revealed from 
heaven against all unrighteousness of men. The 
other, that of hardened sinners. In the first, we shall 
see what we ought to do : In the second, what we 
ought to avoid. In the first we shall see the true end 
of the chastisements of God, and the use we ought to 
make of them . " God, ichen thy judgments are 
(C in the earth, the inhabitants of the zvorld zoill 
c< learn righteousness?" This shall be the first 
part of our discourse. In the second, we shall con- 
sider, but with horror, the dreadful state into which 
hardness and impenitence too often plunge miserable 
mortals : And we shall fear to imitate them, ff Let 
"favor be shewed to the wicked, yet zvill he not 
<c learn righteousness ; but in the land of upright- 
" ness will he: deal unjustly, and will not behold the 
" majesty of the Lord ?" O God, so great in all thy 
perfections, so dreadful in thy judgments ! Infinite 
- Being, before whom we are nonentity itself, enable 
us to adore thy majesty, to tremble before thy justice, 
to disarm thee of thy wrath ; and by a sincere re- 
pentance, may we have part in the effects of thy 



336 THE USE AND ABUSE OF 

protection and mercy, both in this world and that 
which is to come. AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 



4§M Y Brethren, my first point will present unto tis 
two important truths: the one is, that " the judg* 
t£ merits of God are frequently in the earth;" the 
second is, that " then inhabitants of the world 
f will, and ought to, learn righteousness." When 
Isaiah speaks of the judgments of God, we clearly 
see that he does not mean the chastisements which 
fall upon any particular person, or upon such and such 
families; but public calamities. It is true, that in 
particular troubles, as well as public, the justice of 
God appears, in order to punish, to convert sinners, 
and to correct the faithful themselves. But it is cer- 
tain, by the expressions of the prophet, who speaks 
in general of the earth, and the inhabitants of the 
world ; that he means those genei al, and awful, judg- 
ments, which fall upon a people— upon cities — upon 
whole provinces : such were the wars — the famine— 
the captivity — the desolation, which the Jews had 
often experienced, and with which they were now 
threatened. 

My Brethren, God does not always reserve the pu- 
nishment of sin, for th e life to come ; he often seeth 
good, even in this life, to give proofs of his vengeance. 
1 confess that the complete punishment of sin, and 
the judgment, upon sinners, in all the rigor and ex- 
actness of a justice, whHi proportions the punish- 
ment of (he crimes of each individual, is reserved for 
the life to come. But, with respect to whole soci- 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 



337 



eties, to men considered in bodies, and in general 
such as are united under different governments, and di~ 
vided into divers nations: As these men, this people, 
cannot be judged together at the last day, by one 
and the same common punishment, under those rela^ 
tions which have formed cities, republics, and king- 
doms: It is customary, even in this life, for God to 
exercise divers acts of justice, upon the inhabitants of 
the earth : Acts which are images, or preludes, of the 
last judgment. By it he justifies his providence, so 
often accused. He gives to see that there is a God — 
a God who takes knowledge of human actions — an 
Almighty Judge, who hath always arrows, and thun- 
derbolts, at hand, when he intends to punish those 
miserable mortals, who, with impunity, violate all his 
laws. God, as the governor of the world, and pre* 
server of the human race, must, occasionally, arrest, 
by means equally just, and severe, the general over* 
flowings of impiety— of irreligion — of idolatry — of 
abominable vices, which spread more and more, and 
disfigure the human race. Without these chastise- 
ments, which often astonish the hearts of the most in? 
sensible, and bring the most incredulous to their right 
mind, the world would be only a theatre of Atheism 
and crimes ; the fear of an eternal Being would be 
effaced in almost every heart ; each individual woul4 
abandon himself to unrestrained licentiousness; reli-r 
gion would perish ; all states, and all societies, would 
be in the utmost danger. God, therefore, cometh to 
the help of an almost perishing world, by dreadful 
judgments, which he proportions, which he diyersjr 
fies, according to his good pleasure; sometimes in a 
more direct, and sometimes inamore indirect, manner, 
by the intervention of second causes, which he em* 
ploys according to his will In certain places, in 
order to make hardened sinners tremble, and shake 
the Jiearts of the insensible, " He removeth th$ 



338 THE USE AND ABUSE OP 



" earth out of its place;" he shakes the foundations 
of it — he agitates its bowels ; and, by these terrible 
earthquakes, he fills the most self-confident with fear. 
Sometimes even by deluges of fire, which the mountains 
discharge, and which the opening earth sends forth, he 
presents to men frightful images, and, as it were, fore- 
runners of the torments of hell ; at other times, he 
cometh by torrents of water, raging waves of the fu- 
rious sea, which passes its ordinary bounds. He comes 
by tempestuous winds, dreadful inundations, threaten- 
ing certain places with a second deluge, and total de- 
struction. In other places, where the elements of wa- 
ter and fire appear less proper to execute his ven- 
geance; he beholdeth a general corruption in faith 
and manners ; he hath there seen the fury of perse- 
cution, with which he hath borne for a long time ; 
and which it is now time to punish: He calleth from 
the east the grand minister of death, which answers his 
end in all places; in the west as well as in the east, in 
the north as well as the south, in our age as well as 
in ages past; to execute his more fearful vengeance. 
He commandeth, and the subtle poison, at first con- 
cealed, unknown, comes gliding into fhe bosoms of 
mortal men. God speaketh ; the destroying angel 
marches forth, and presently known by his blows, he 
every where leaves bloody marks of his passage. 

There is another punishment, which appears less 
interesting at first; but which is, nevertheless, a chas- 
tisement sufficiently dreadful in itself, and in its con- 
sequences. The daemon of interest, the boundless 
thirst for riches, prevails among the great, and the 
small ; among the Roman Catholics, and Protestants ; 
among all orders, all states : God seeth it • and in 
order to undeceive blind men, he bloweth upon these 
fortunes, built upon the sand, quickly raised, but also 
easily overturned : more perishable than the gourd of 



THE JUDGMENTS OP GOD. 339 



Jonah ; one day we see them born ; another we see 
them die. Then, what disorder ! what derangement! 
" Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities ; all is va- 
(i nity !" " Behold the judgments of God in the 
" earth!" Let us not forget past chastisements, 
which appear not to reign at the present day, at least 
among us; war, famine, persecution. War, that ter- 
rible scourge, which hath desolated, or alarmed, us 
for so many years past; that scourge, which hath 
ravaged so many countries — so often threatened our 
own cities, and our own dwellings; that scourge, 
which hath caused so many chosen men to fall, and 
overwhelmed, in weeping and tears, a considerable 
part of our neighbours and friends; that war, which 
in its equivocal success, hath afforded us sometimes, 
after our most lively fears, cause for rejoicing; but 
always at the expence of human blood, shed in abun- 
dance, and always with groans and tears — always 
with a final issue, which evinces, that God punishes 
human beings by one another, and that he divides 
among them the goods and the ills, in order to make 
us all more wise. 

Persecution : What shall I say of this ? Although 
a little abated at the present day, hath it less deso- 
lated our flocks, our families ; ruined our establish- 
ments, our rest; troubled our consciences, driven 
thousands of peaceable and innocent persons from their 
habitations, and made ravages which future ages will 
hardly credit. O heaven ! how dreadful are the con- 
sequences still ! Oh ! the coldness, the languor, the 
irreligion, among the greater part of our Brethren ! 
and the rigor suspended, does not renew that zeal in 
the poor Protestants, with which we wish to see them 
reanimated. Lord, in this respect were thy judg- 
ments abroad still, in the land of our nativity; else- 
where I trust that at last, wisdom, prudence, and 

z 2 



340 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



policy, on the one hand; and firmness, vigor, and 
zeal, on the other, are calculated to arrest, to calm, 
and to put an end to the inconsiderate and violent 
emotions, which appear to threaten our empire with 
new troubles, and are forward to ravish away the 
privileges which are so just, and so inviolable, to sub- 
missive subjects ; who only reserve the rights of 
conscience, and of those liberties which are so well 
founded. War, in a word, is not every where, at an 
end : The mortality of cattle was the subject, and a 
very proper one, of our prayers, and many of our fasts, 
in preceding years : Past fears, present perils ; ali 
oblige us now to confess, " That the judgments of 
" God are in the earth!" 

" The judgments of God !'* Ah ! Infidels, I under* 
stand you : All comes to pass by causes that are mere* 
ly natural. Here, the intemperature of the air pro* 
duces maladies ; there, the fury of men, their pas- 
sions, and their different interests, cause wars to spring 
up ; elsewhere, winds and storms, cause, by a natural 
effect, those inundations which astonish us ; in other 
places, self-interest, prospects, beautiful in appearance, 
but badly managed, cause derangements, which en- 
rich asmall number, or which, whilst they flatterthem 
with some hope of gain, occasion, afterwards, much 
disorder in public credit and commerce; and, by da- 
grees, undermine the best national resources, and the 
subsistence of individuals. Now ; is there any thing 
in this but what is natural ? I understand you, your 
meaning is, that, far from the common sentiments of 
reason, and the language of scripture, you will not say 
with the prophet Amos, " is there evil in a city, and 
' the Lord hath not done it." You will nQt say with 
Jeremiah, (c that good and evil come from the com~ 
" mandment of the Most High." Miserable men ! 
If the authority of scripture is not sufficient for you, 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD 



341 



consult the sentiments of all people* who have always 
acknowledged a Divinity who governs all things, who 
overrules events, and who distributes to human beings 
both good and evil Consult conscience, and its sen* 
timents, which are always invincible; you know what 
they will tell you concerning a Supreme Being, and 
the calamities which take place, whether in general 
to rebellious sinners, or to yourselves in particular ; 
an inward conviction obliges you, at least sometimes, 
to bow your necks, m spite of yourselves, to the 
sword that threatens you. Consult the genuine senti- 
ments of reason, and you will see that, so soon as we 
acknowledge a first cause, which directs all things, 
which maketh all second causes to act; a supreme 
cause, which doeth every thing with wonderful wis- 
dom ; we are obliged to confess, that grievous chas- 
tisements, public calamities, with which people are 
afflicted, are the judgments of God. He it is who 
sends them ; he it is who makes use of second causes, 
to execute his wise designs; he it is who diversifies 
his chastisements as he pleases ; who directs the mea- 
sure and the duration : but what is his design in all 
this ; and what is the duty of the men whom he 
visits with his scourges? The design of God is, 
<( that the inhabitants of the world should learn righ- 
" teousness :" And this is the indispensable duty of 
those whom he afflicts. Righteousness in this place, 
my Brethren, is the same thing as true piety, that uni- 
versal righteousness, which includes all the duties of 
reasonable and religious men. " Righteousness to- 
" wards God/' rendering him the homage due to his 
majesty ; the homage of the mind, the affection of 
the heart, obedience to his commands, and the exte- 
rior and interior worship, which religion prescribes to us. 
" Righteousness towards our neighbour conduct- 
ing ourselves towards all men with that equity, mode- 
ration, uprightness, affection, and charity, which in- 

z 3 



342 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



duce us to look upon all their rights as inviolable ; all 
their interests as our own ; and which lead us to afford 
them all the help which our situation will permit. 
"Righteousness towards ourselves." We do not al- 
ways attend to this. No; when we neglect our soul, 
and our salvation ; when we destroy our own body, so 
that we shorten our life, and impair our health, by de- 
bauchery, intemperance, and voluptuousness; we are 
not righteous towards ourselves. But if we are wise 
- — moderate — sober — temperate, even in things which 
are permitted; avoiding all illicit pleasures : This is 
the righteousness which we should learn at all times, 
and in all places j and this is that which the judgments 
of God often cause men to learn in calamitous times; 
tf When thy judgments are in the earth, the inhabi- 
" iants of the world will learn righteousness." 

i( The inhabitants of the world/' in this place, 
mean the inhabitants of the world' in general, even 
those who are strangers to the covenant ; how much 
more them who are in the church ? We shall prove 
this truth by reason and examples. Herodotus in- 
forms us, that in a certain temple of Egypt, there 
was a statue of Sennacherib, with an inscription, the 
sense of which was, "Learn to fear the Deity, in 
? looking at me." My Brethren, the judgments of 
God upon rebellious sinners, are monuments which 
God erects in the world, and which express, in cha- 
racters which ail men should read, ec Learn to fear 
4f the Deity, in locki g at us." A celebrated poet, 
amongst the ancient Romans, in describing the divers 
punishments of hell, presents us with a fine sen- 
tence ; ce Learn righteousness by us, and do not 
■* despise the gods" It appears by this, that the 
secrets of mans conscience, and his natural senti- 
ments, lead him to profit by the examples, which 
God exhibits of his justice, whether in this world, 



THE JUDGMENTS OP GOD 



343 



or the next ; and to respect a Supreme Being, who 
knoweth how to avenge himself, both now and here- 
after. We also see, that people of every description, 
endeavor to appease heaven, in the time of public 
calamities, by prayers, incense, sacrifices, and solemn 
humiliations. We then see them at the feet of their 
altars, signalizing their zeal, redoubling their devo- 
tions, and employing all kinds of means to calm the 
incensed heavens. The preacher— the priest — vir- 
gins — children — aged people ; all anxious to endea- 
vor by their tears — their offerings — their ceremo- 
nies—their promises; to soften the irritated heavens! 
The Ninevites do penance — they cover themselves 
with sackcloth — they compel even innocent animals 
to fast for the sins of man ; to turn away the threat- 
nings of Jonah! Pharaoh, all insensible as he is, 
crieth out, te I have sinned — entreat the Lord for 
"me!" He is in a strait — he is ready to let Israel 
go. Ahab, all Ahab, as he is, humbles himself, and 
appears to learn righteousness, at least for a short 
time. 

Probably some will tell me upon this, that the pro- 
cessions, the ceremonies, and the sacrifices of the 
Gentiles; their dishevelled virgins running to their 
temples, and their devotions, mingled with so many 
cries and tears, the simple, and natural effects of fear, 
served in reality only to redouble their superstitions, 
their adorations of false divinities, and not to animate 
them with true righteousness : I answer, that the de- 
fect proceeded from the error of their understanding, 
and not from the sentiment of their hearts, or the 
impulse of their consciences : They were deceived 
in the object of their worship ; they erred in many of 
the practices which they adopted, as proper to ap- 
pease the Divinity ; but their actions set forth the 
feelings of man's conscience, and proved that it is a 



344 



f me use And abuse of 



general sentiment, that in public calamities, " We 
u ought to learn righteousness." This is, at least, 
one reason more for us, which ought to produce con* 
sidcrable effect \ it is a reproach to us, that we 
should be more insensible than heathens themselves. 
People, strangers to the covenant of God, as the 
Ninevites, the Greeks, and the Romans, on many 
occasions, have done so many things, to stop the 
course of public calamities. How much more ought 
people, who are enlightened with the knowledge of 
the true God, to humble themselves, and be convert- 
ed, in similar circumstances ? After all, if the 
worship could not be pleasing to God — it is certain, 
in other respects, that vices, debaucheries, and the 
general overflowing of crimes, were then a little 
abated ; that many became wise, more temperate, and 
more just : And therefore it is a true saying, that then 
<( The inhabitants of the world will learn righte- 
(t ousness." Human societies were always sensible 
of the happy effects of these changes. They were 
not carried so far as they ought to have been ; but 
at the same time, it is unjust to say, that they were 
without fruit ; and that they were not very useful to 
men, for their repose, and preservation, and to 
cherish in their minds, the belief, and fear, of a 
divinity* 

You will moreover probably tell me, that Ahab, 
and Pharaoh, did not truly learn righteousness. I 
confess, that it is more proper to rank them among 
those, of whom we shall speak in our second part, 
who harden themselves, when God shews them favor, 
and suspends his judgments ; than among those who 
profit by the blows, with which the Lord striketh 
them. But this invalidates not the truth, that even 
this kind of men are often so agitated — moved — 
terrified ; by the chastisements of God, that they fall 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 345 



but little short of learning righteousness. They are 
almost prevailed upon, like Felix, to become good 
men ; they sometimes even make efforts, and take 
steps towards conversion. So true is it, that the 
natural effects of the judgments of the Most Hi^h, is, 
<{ That we learn righteousness." This is above 
all the effect which they produce, upon hearts 
which are not wholly insensible ; upon men who 
have some sentiments of conscience and religion* 
I do not say, that chastisement alone is capable of 
vanquishing our natural hardness : It is necessary 
that grace should work; that it should soften our 
hearts, and that it should concur effectually in time of 
affliction, and even by the affliction to convert us. But 
this infallibly takes place in well-disposed men. Elihu 
saith, in the 36th. chapter of Job, " If they be bound 
<c in fetters, and be holden in the cords of affliction, 
" then the Lord sheweth them their work ; and their 
" transgressions, that they have exceeded. He 
(s openeth also their ear to discipline, and command- 
cc eth that they return from iniquity.'* 

The chastisements with which God visits us, are 
proper, with the assistance of grace, to remove almost 
all those obstacles which naturally oppose themselves 
to our conversion. These obstacles are, for instance, 
idleness — languor — thoughtlessness. But affliction 
arouses — goads — pierces, and obliges man to enter 
into himself, and to say ; What have I done ? These 

obstacles are the things of this world — its pleasures 

our passions — abundance — prosperity. et When the 
sc righteous man waxethfat, he kicks." But when 
the judgments of God fall upon us, so that our plea- 
sures are arrested by desolations, or general conster- 
nation ; so that our joys are changed into sorrow, 
and we see ourselves deprived, or in danger of being 
deprived, of all that is dear to us ; then the heart and 



346 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



the ear are open, and the conscience speaketh. Two 
grand obstacles to our conversion, are our abuse of 
the patience of God, who preserves us ; and the hope 
that we still have of living many years ; but the judg- 
ments of God often take away these obstacles. Is it 
a cruel famine, which ravages a country? Is it a 
mortality, which cuts off both young and old ? Is it a 
general exhausting of common resources, which the rich 
thought were sufficient to put them out of the reach of 
the evils which desolate those of a low r estate ? Must 
they die in the midst of their riches, without being 
able to obtain help? Then the thoughts of death, and 
the marks of God's displeasure, with which they see 
themselves surrounded on every side, begin to dispel 
the charm, and make us see and feel the' vanity of the 
world, and of our projects ; then the world which 
passeth away ; eternity which approacheth; cause our 
illusions to cease, and oblige us to cry out with the 
disciples in the tempest; "Lord save us, or we 
*" perish." The danger is sometimes so pressing, the 
time so short, that it is with difficulty we can offer up 
prayer — pour out tears — repair past faults — make 
restitution — forgive— do works of charity as we ought, 
and as we would wish, in order to exercise righteous- 
ness. Ah! my Brethren, let us timely reflect ! And 
when God threatens us, as he threatened Israel of 
old, in the 5th. of Hosea : fC I will be as a lion, and 
" as a young lion, to the house of Judah. I, even 
" F, will tear and go away : I will take away, and 
<c none shall rescue him." Ah ! Lord, who shall be 
able to take it away from thee ! Who shall be able 
to rescue the victims that thou wiliest to sacrifice to 
thy just fury ! My Brethren, repentance, and amend- 
ment, may take place. Let us learn righteousness ; 
let us seek the Lord, early in our affliction : <( Come 
" and let us return unto the Lord." This is our 
duty ; this is the design of God in afflicting us ; but 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 347 

this is what hardened hearts are not inclined to do. 
The prophet informs of this when he saith., <c Let 
* f favor be shown to the wicked, yet will he not learn 
" righteousness ; in the land of uprightness mill 
" he deal unjustly, and will not behold the rnajesty 
" of the Lord." 



SECOND PART. 

Isaiah presents us with a terrible portrait of 
hardened sinners : A portrait of which we should 
imagine the features too strong, if experience, and 
scripture, did not convince us that there is nothing 
more true, or even more common. Let us say a 
something of the terms, before we proceed to the truth 
of the whole proposition. The favor which is here 
said to be shown to the wicked, is, properly speaking, 
a temporal favor A a deliverance from miseries which 
overwhelmed him ; a suspension of judgments were 
tailing upon him. For in reality, the favor of the real 
pardon of sin, the grace of justification, can never be 
conferred upon the wicked, continuing such. But 
there is a favor of patience — of forbearance, when 
God withdraws his chastisements, or moderates them 
in supporting sinners, and in giving them space to 
repent ; and this is the favor which sinners abuse : 
" Let favor be shewed to the wicked, yet will he not 
" learn righteousness" 

You will easily perceive, that by the wicked, in 
this place, are not meant any particular or notorious 
sinners : The term is put for sinners in general, as 
in the verse following, in the plural number; that 
" They will not see when the hand of the Lord is 



348 the use and abusH of 

f* lifted up.*' These sinners always work wicked- 
ness in the "Land of uprightness.' 3 — -What is this 
te Land of uprightness." It is the land of Canaan ; 
the church of God : This then is an aggravation of 
the crime of those who sin, notwithstanding' the chas- 
tisements which God -sends them, and the deliverance 
which he afterwards grants them, This was the 
crime of the Jews in the land of promise, as opposed 
to the inhabitants of the world in general, and the 
heinous sin of those who are in the bosom of the 
church; but whence cometh the hardness, the ob- 
stinacy, of those who are such. It is, saith the pro- 
phet, because cc They will not behold the majesty of 
" the Lord." " They will not behold." The ori- 
ginal may be equally applied to the past, present, and 
future. They have not considered in time past t 
They do not consider at present, the greatness of the 
Supreme Being — his perfections — his power — his 
justice — his patience — his mercy; and at the same 
time the prophet utters a bad prediction for the fu- 
ture; which is, <c That they will not behold the 
ts majesty of the Loi'd" No, these incorrigible 
sinners will not be converted, notwithstanding the 
kindness and severity of God ; and they will be equally 
insensible, both to the judgments of God, the effects 
of his patience, and his long suffering. We shall now 
prove and apply this truth. 

What the sacred penman here said, is a general 
reproach, with which he and the other prophets per- 
petually loaded the Jews ; whose conduct is, too gene- 
rally, that of the greater part of men. He saith no 
less than three times in his ninth chapter, u For all 
" this, his anger is not tinned away— for the people 
tc turneth not unto him that smiteth them:" And he 
repeats it in the following chapter. But 1 ought not 
to forget the pathetic complaint of the same prophet^ 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD* 



349 



in the beginning of his prophecy ; ce Ah ! sinful 
f< nation, a people ladened with iniquity, a seed of 
" evil doers, children that are corrupters ; they 
t( have forsaken the Lord ; they have provoked the 
" Holy One of Israel unto anger ; they are pone 
" away backward ! Why should ye be stricken any 
" more ? Ye will revolt more and more." As if he 
had said you are so incorrigible, and so obstinate, 
in doing evil, that the judgments of God among you 
do not produce any salutary effect. And to what pur- 
pose is it, that the Lord redoubles his severity. You 
will only add rebellion to rebellion. Do you wish for 
more witnesses upon this subject? Jeremiah com- 
plaineth in his fifth chapter, saying : " Thou hast 
(S stricken them, but they have not grieved: Thou 
<e hast consumed them, but they have refused to 
" receive correction; they have made their faces 
tc harder than a rock ; they have refused to return," 

I hear the Lord holding out the same language, in 
the seventh of Hosea : " Strangers have devoured 
rc the strength of Ephraim, and he knoweth it not ; 
" and the pride of Israel it testijieth to his face, and 
" they do not return to the Lord their God, nor seek 
" him for all this." Above all ; in the fourth of 
Amos, this complaint which God maketh of the insen- 
sible, and incorrigible, Israelites, is repeated no less 
than five times; after the enumeration of each of the 
scourges with which God had visited them, the same 
accusation always returns : cc Yet have ye not re- 
" turned unto me, saith the Lord " It is, therefore, 
true, that the wicked do not learn righteousness, even 
by the calamities with which God visits them, and 
that cc they will not behold the majesty of the Lord" 
as is said in my text. And after so many reproaches 
of the prophets, this saying standeth sure, and incon* 
testible, in the mouth of many witnesses, 



350 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



Finally; you see, my Brethren, that God had 
shown favor many times to these sinners, of whom 
lie complains. If he had seen proper, at first, to exe- 
cute all the rigor of his judgments ; if he had seen 
proper to sweep them from the earth; he needed not 
to heap judgments upon judgments, nor to reproach 
them with their hardness at different times, and by va- 
rious instruments. " Though a sinner do evil an 
" hundred times/' saith Solomon, C( his days are 
"prolonged." And it is this long suffering which 
he abuseth, as the same wise man justly observes: 
t( Because sentence against an evil work is not exe- 
sc cuted speedily , therefore the heart of the sons of 
"men is fully set in them to do evil:" that is to 
say, from a principle of obstinate malice, which will 
not give way ; dreadful hardness of a wicked heart, 
which the prophet deplores ! " Let favor be shelved 
<c to the wicked, yet will he not learn righteous- 
f( ness." 

Do we need examples to confirm this truth? I 
greatly fear that the men of our days, and that we 
ourselves, may supply ages to come with them. Hap- 
pier we, if we profit by those of ages past! Behold 
Pharaoh ! a plague comes, and terminates. It is no 
sooner past, than this unhappy king becomes stub- 
born, and hardens himself A second, a third plague, 
succeeds the first; and they are increased even unto 
ten. Relenting for a moment, he yields only while the 
rod is upon him ; and when it is removed, he still ob- 
stinately detains Israel. Ah ! say you, Pharaoh was an 
idolator, an infidel, a haughty prince ; his pride, his 
impiety, the loss he would sustain in suffering Israel to 
go, caused his heart to revolt, and prevented his obey- 
ing. But do you imagine that the people, the men,, 
who know the true God, are less difficult to be per- 
suaded, less obstinate, when they are excited to relin- 



THE JUDGMENTS OP GOD. 



351 



quish the sin which would damn them, and to rid 
themselves of their passions? Israel, who saw all the 
plagues of the Egyptians, is not wiser than they ; he 
revolts so often in the wilderness, that God is obliged 
to smite him with divers plagues : at the same time, 
no sooner are these plagues past, than the people re- 
turn to their murmurings, and rebellions ; and compel 
the Almighty to consume, in the wilderness, all that 
came out of Egypt, except Caleb and Joshua. I find 
in the 6th. chapter of Jeremiah, a striking metaphor, 
representing this kind of sinners, whom neither chas- 
tisements, nor the temporary suspension of them ; nor 
their repetition with increase of suffering, can restrain: 
He compares them to base silver, a metal incapable of 
being melted, so as to separate the good from the bad. 
God is the refiner ; his judgments are the furnace and 
the fire : cc But," saith the prophet, " the founder 
" melteth in vain, for the wicked are not plucked 
te away ; reprobate silver shall men call them, be- 
Cl cause the Lord hath rejected them." In vain, my 
God, dost thou often employ thy judgments, as a fire, 
to refine men. The wicked will not forsake their dross 
and their earth. In vain, did 1 say ? No ; I retract it ; 
it is always to the glory of thy patience, and thy long 
suffering, which leads them to repentance : It is al- 
ways to the glory of thy justice, which punishes them 
with temporal afflictions, in order to convert them : 
It is always to the glory, even of thy mercy, which 
willeth, that the chastisements of thyjudgments should 
oblige mortals, to take refuge in thy out-stretched 
arms for their eternal salvation. 

My Brethren, this horrible sin of the wicked, who 
do not learn righteousness, either when God strikes 
them, or when, by a happy return of his patience, he 
suspends his chastisements ; is a crying sin, which in- 
cludes two great degrees of aggravation. The first 



352 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



is, that of " Hardness even against the vengeance of 
(c God;" against the strokes, and under the strokes, 
of his rod, and of his sword. " It is to kick" I will 
not say, " against the pricks;" but against goads, 
which are more piercing; points, more penetrating ; 
which will naturally enter, " Even to the dividing 
* asunder of soul and spirit; and of the joints an4 
fcf marrow" 

A man in this state is quite the reverse of a true 
believer, under the afflictions, persecutions, and suf- 
ferings, which he endures for the sake of God, and 
his truth. The true believer, in his tribulations, in 
spite of the threatenings of tyrants, the blows of exe- 
cutioners, the torments, the pains which he suffers, 
acknowledged God, and attaches himself to God more 
than ever. He triumphs; he is, in all these things, more 
than conqueror ; he saith to God, " Though thou slay 
fC me, yet will I trust in thee." And he saith to men, 
prepare your racks — your fires — your wheels : " I am 
persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels 
" nor principalities, nor powers, nor things pre- 
<c sent, nor things to come, shall be able to separate 
" me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus 
fi my Lord" But what doth the sinner, who will 
not iearn righteousness, nor behold the majesty of the 
Lord? He is fully bent upon doing evil, even " In 
f( the land of uprightness." In the church, in the 
country which God hath most highly favoured — in 
the ancient Canaan — in the modern Canaan ; I mean 
in those kingdoms, commonwealths, and provinces, 
which God has honored with the knowledge of his 
religion in its purity. He is obstinate in wickedness, in 
the midst of the most terrible plagues : Diseases — * 
rr.ortality of cattle — perils, both by land and sea — 
earth quakes — con flag rat ions — i n undation s - — desola- 
tions of war — ravages of tjie plague; Jie pretends to 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 353 



triumph over all; nothing can penetrate this heart 
of iron and adamant ; every stroke of affliction from 
the Lord rebounds against its hardness. It appears, 
as if such a man said to God : cc No, though thou slay 
cc me, I will not cease to love my sin c< Neither death, 
(C nor life, nor goods, nor ills, shall be able to sepa- 
ee rate me from it." What I say is not, as some 
persons might suppose, an exaggerated sentiment; 
nothing is more real — nothing more true. <c The 
" wicked zvill always deal unjustly, and will not be- 
cc hold the majesty of the Lord." 

The second degree of the aggravation of the sin of 
the wicked, is, that they sin, when God shows them 
favor, by turning away his chastisements. Man hath 
a free will ; it may be said that he is willing to be 
saved by gentleness. If he may be shaken by fear, 
he nevertheless does not love to yield, to a species of 
violence which forces him, or to a constraint which 
deprives him, of his liberty. He wishes to be good 
or bad, according to his own inclination. And how 
shall this difficult, and capricious, will be gained? 
God begins by mildness : He works upon this will, 
he strives to win it by his benefits : But a stubborn 
heart will not permit him to draw it to himself. Other 
means are necessary, and, if I may venture to say it, 
other machines, in order to put an end to its stubborn- 
ness. Go forth then, scourges of the human race ; 
plagues, judgments ; besiege, assault, and shake this 
heart ! But alas ! it is terrified without being gained [ 
It sinks under the weight of the blows, it glows even 
as the metal in the fire ; but it cometh forth, retaking 
the same nature, and the same hardness, which it had 
before it went into the furnace. Let us try, saith the 
patience of God, if the suspension of chastisements, 
the return of new blessings, and new favors, will not 
; produce a better effect. But alas ! there are certain 

a a 



354 THE USE AND ABUSE OP 



hearts which neither mildness, nor severity, will gain. 
Ah ! we are ashamed of ourselves, and of human 
nature, when we reflect that we are naturally capa- 
ble of the same thing*. " Let God shew favor to the 
C£ wicked, yet will he not learn righteousness : But 
" he will always deal unjustly, and will not behold 
" the majesty of the Lord." I maintain, my Brethren, 
that it is still more difficult to harden ourselves against 
the goodness of God, than against his chastise- 
ments ; especially when one escapes these by a fresh 
return of the other, by a renewed patience of God. 
This happy distinction, which causes a people to be 
shielded, while their neighbours are struck, and a par- 
ticular person to be spared, while his fellow citizens 
fall by thousands on the right hand and on the left ; 
is something so particular, that it is difficult to con- 
ceive how it is possible for any one not to be convert- 
ed in like circumstances. But we must believe our 
prophet, as well as matter of fact. 

Do you wish for examples, taken from the Bible ; 
I there find one which appears very suitable to my 
subject, and which clearly proves that it is a great 
crime to sin when God strikes, and at the same time 
spares. It is that of Lot's wife. It appears, at first, 
that the sin of this woman was not very great. Curio- 
sity, pity, the regret at seeing her country perish, 
caused her to turn her eyes towards a burning city, 
from which God had made her to depart. But then ; 
when the Almighty punished, on the one hand, and 
shewed favor on the other ; when he saved from the 
midst of the flames ; when the avenging God and 
Saviour had forbidden her to look behind her, and 
had commanded her to haste to the mountain to save 
herself; she dares to run all hazards, to outrage jus- 
tice and mercy altogether! Here is the blackest ingra- 
titude ; a disposition of soul steeled against fear, and 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 



355 



obstinate in its daring inclinations. An ingratitude, 
rooted and grounded in an evil which God can scarcely 
pardon. It is the disposition of the wicked in our 
text : " Let favor be shewed to the zoicked ; yet will 
" he not learn righteousness, but he will always 
c< deal unjustly." 

Whence cometh this., you will say ; that we should 
sin not only in spite of the chastisements, but in spite 
of the favors which spare us ? Whence cometh it ? 
Ask your own hearts, which are guilty nearly of the 
same thing. This arises from a depth of corruption, 
as difficult to represent as to comprehend. This comes 
from the return of the same objects, the same occa- 
sions, the same passions, which have aforetime caused 
us to sin. This proceeds from habits long contracted, 
which appear like waters stopped in their course, for 
some time, and increased by resistance; but which 
rush forth, with greater violence, when the obstacle 
which stopped them is removed. It proceeds, above 
all, from this, that the wicked do not behold, and will 
not regard, the majesty of the Lord. A good man 
always sets the Lord before him ; he sees him every 
where ; he acknowledges his hand in all events; he 
admires, he adores, his perfections : " In the day of 
" prosperity he is joyful ; in the day of adversity 
ss he considers." He is inflamed with love and gra- 
titude when the Lord confers favors: He is humble 
and submissive, under his reproofs and chastisements, 
cc It is the Lord" saith he, " let him do what seemeth 
es him good. The Lord is just, for I have rebelled 
vf against him. I became dumb and opened not my 
" mouth, because thou didst it." Are chastisements 
past ? He takes care to remember them. He hath 
heard the rod, and he still profiteth by it. 

The wicked are altogether the reverse ; they forget 

a a 2 



356 THE USE AND ABUSE Ot 

chastisements- favors make no impression : for want 
of attention, and recollection; they have never con- 
ceived ideas sufficiently grand of the magnificence of 
the Lord ; and they have still less these ideas always 
present to the mind, for want of a careful, and dura- 
ble, reflexion. These men, never instructed till they 
are corrected, until, in some happy moment, their pas- 
sions are subdued, persevere in their wild career. 
Read the verse which follows our text : cc Lord ! when 
" thy hand is lifted up, they will not see;" and let 
us not forget what follows : " But they shall see, 
" and be ashamed, for their envy at the people : Yea, 
" the fire of thine enemies shall devour them. 3 * 
Ah! how dearly shall that triumph cost them, which 
they imagine they have obtained by their hardness over 
the patience of God! There shall come a time, per- 
haps in this world, but most assuredly in the other ; 
in which they shall see, in spite of themselves, the 
hand of the Lord: A hand armed; judgment with- 
out mercy ! Then shall they be ashamed, with an 
everlasting confusion; yea, the fire of God's enemies 
shall devour them ! 



CONCLUSION. 



Is this sufficient, my Brethren? To which will 
you liken yourselves? What part have you taken, 
while you have been hearing us ? What part will 
you take in future ? Are you already, or do you wish, 
at least, for the future, to be of those c< Who learn 
■ " righteousness, when the judg?nents of God are 
(( in the earth ?" Or do you resemble, even un- 
til now, those who do not behold the majesty of the 
Lord? And will you still resemble them, even when 



TliE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 357 



God shews favor unto you? We must to-day endea- 
vor to assist your recollection; we must to-day plead 
the cause of God; and, after the example of the an- 
cient prophets, bring forwards our accusations against 
men .; and declare " The counsel of the Lord against 
"his people." Yes! against " his people !" We. 
profess to be a thousand times better taught than the 
ancient Israel, " his people." We are so in these 
provinces. If truth, if pure religion, if continued fa-, 
vors, redoubled so as to make other nations jealous of 
our advantages, can prove us to be the people of God ; 
we are so. Very well ! Church of God — inhabitants 
of these happy provinces — ancient and new citizens; 
hear {c The counsel of the Lord against you !" 
Which is, that you have not learned righteousness, 
when the judgments of the Lord have been in the 
earth, and upon yourselves: equally insensible to 
goods and ills, you have not learned it. You have 
often " Hung down your head for a day like a bul- 
" rush" You have had your fears, your fasts, your 
humiliations ; and in them we have sometimes heard 
your sighs, and seen your tears flow : But what real 
fruits ; what amendment has followed ? I speak in ge- 
neral. Like unto the Israelites, of whom the Psalmist 
speaks in the 78th. Psalm. cc When he slew them, 
cc then they sought him\; and returned and enquired 
" early after God : And they remembered that God 
ft was their rock, and the High God their Redeemer. 
" Nevertheless they did flatter him with their mouth, 
" and they lyed unto him with their tongues : For 
" their heart was not right with him, neither were 
" they stedfast in his covenant," 

One woe is past, and another cometh ; but we are 
alway s nearly the same. Ci Hear the counsel of the 
" Lord," against you, Refugees ! You are as "Brands 
"plucked out of the fire;" but made black, half 

a a 3 



358 THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



burned, in a terrible flame • namely, that of persecu* 
tion. Have you sought the Lord with all your heart ? 
* c Have you learned righteousness ?" You are ac- 
cused of, having brought your vices with you ; and 
that in respect to luxury — ornaments — conformity to 
the world — sports — j esting — diversions — oaths — de- 
bauchery ; you are the leaders, and the champions, 
of others in those things from which you ought to be 
fully reclaimed. Hear the counsel of the Lord against 
you,, inhabitants of these provinces ! You look upon 
your happiness as inseparable from you ; and all the 
chastisements of God have been yet insufficient to 
cure you of your prejudices, and insensibility. These 
chastisements of God have passed away. The Al- 
mighty has spared you, in comparison with other 
people. The famine has not caused you to feel its 
painful depredations, like those of a neighbouring 
nation. The mortality of animals has produced more 
sensible effects among you ; it has augmented their 
price, impoverished divers families, and taken away 
one of the principal sources of the wealth of our in- 
habitants. What avails all this? Having repaired 
your losses, you have felt them without being over- 
whelmed by them, and much less converted. We have 
here inundations — instruments ever ready to avenge 
the Almighty ; particularly in a country where the 
sea spares with difficulty, where it is under our feet, 
and where every moment we are liable to sink, after 
the example of other places, in our provinces, which 
the sea hath already swallowed up. But notwith- 
standing the visible appearance which gradually threa- 
tens to sink divers other places, and to turn them into 
an abyss, what hath all this produced ? Ah ! some 
will say, if the place in which we dwell is so subject 
to inundations, let us "Escape to the mountain;" 
let us seek for places more elevated — more firm, and 
a shelter from the danger of the waters. Miserable 



V 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 359 

mortals ! fly then, seek refuges ! There the hand of 
God shall be upon you. Go to the north, and to the 
south, and you will meet with the angel of death, who 
will breathe upon you a poison, a fire, which will con- 
sume you! Have you heard this angel of death when 
he has warned you of his approaches; you who, by 
your situation, and your commerce, are truly a kind 
of centre, a species of rendezvous, where vessels ar^ 
rive from all parts, laden with the merchandize, with 
the riches, of other countries. But do you not see, 
that by this very thing, you are more exposed, more 
open on every side, more liable to receive, without 
thinking of it, both from far and near, the impoisoned 
riches, the infected presents; which bring you, as 
swift as the wings of the wind, the death which you 
dread ? My Brethren, let us pass sentence upon our- 
selves. <c O Lord, righteousness belongeth unto 
" thee, hut unto us 3 confusion of faces, as at this 
t day." 

We have not learned righteousness, by the present, 
and past, judgments of God. I except you, happy 
souls, few in number, who help to preserve us. Ah ! 
" Weep between the porch and the altar place 
yourselves into the breach, and endeavor to disarm 
God. What must we all do ? ff Let us learn righ- 
" teousness." Is it a thing so difficult, to render to 
God what we owe him, to our neighbour that which 
reason demands, and to ourselves, that which our best 
interest requires ? " Righteousness- ! " You ought to 
have known it, you ought to have practised it long 
ago. Righteousness! Know better its extent — its ne- 
cessity — and fulfil all its duties ! God has often soli- 
cited you by the heralds of his gospel ; often pressed 
you in season and out of season ; above all, by his 
kindnesses — his love — his indulgence ! " He would 
" often have gathered you, even as a hen gathereth 



360 



THE USE AND ABUSE OF 



" her chickens under her wings, and you icould 
"not" 

What then is to be done? Ah ! at least, may the 
fear, the terror, of God's judgments, open your hearts ; 
that they may be as the ploughshare which breaks up 
the earth, and which opens the furrows thereof, that 
you at last may become " God's husbandmen." But 
perhaps the evil is yet at too great a distance, to cause 
much fear. But who knows whether it has not ap- 
proached nearer than we imagine? Must you stay 
till it arrives in the midst of you, and, till abandoned 
even by your near relations, you shall have only a 
few days longer to live, or rather a few moments to 
die in ? When you see the avenger of blood with his 
drawn sword, standing in the way like Balaam ; then,, 
at least, turn you from your evil ways. Will you say 
I am not able, or I am not willing to do it? Well then 
perish ! Do not learn righteousness. March forth 
against the Almighty ; brave his vengeance ! Miser- 
able men, who are but as " Thorns and briers before 
"the consuming fire," repel force by force; imi- 
tate the wicked, " Who do not behold the majesty 
" or the power, of the Lord:" But expect all the 
evils that his offended justice can make you feel, in 
this world, and in that which is to come ! As for us, 
we shall be clear of your blood ; and in deploring a 
loss which we cannot prevent, " We will return to 
" our God :" We will profit by his chastisments, 
while he calls us to endure them ! 

Patience, Brethren : Supported by this, we will 
render to the Lord our humble thanks ; and we will 
"say to him, as Ezra in his prayer; "After all that is 
" come upon us for our evil deeds, and for our great 
"trespass ; seeing that thou, our God, hast punished 
"us less than our iniquities deserve, and hast given 



THE JUDGMENTS OF GOD. 



361 



(t us such deliverance as this. Should we again 
" break thy commandments. — Wouldst not thou be 
"angry with us, till thou hxidst consumed us?" It 
is enough, it is enough, O Lord ! Spare the people, 
and save us ! arrest the scourges of thy vengeance ; 
arrest the course and the overflowing of our sins ; heal 
us this day — save us from thy wrath now, and from 
the wrath to come ! AMEN. 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 
SERMON XIII. 

1st Epistle of Corinthians, x Chap. 16 Verse. 

6S The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the 
communion of the blood of Christ? The bread 
which we break, is it not the communion of the 
body of Christ?" 

My Brethren, 

That which constitutes monsters in nature, is a 
superabundance, or a deficiency It is necessary that 
a whole should have all the essential parts that ought 
to enter into its composition, and that these parts 
should preserve their proper situation, and their exact 
proportion, that we may be able to praise their beauty 
and perfection. As soon as, by the retrenchment, 
and defect, of something* essential, or by the addition 
of any thing contrary to nature, a body is far from 
the measure, and form, which it ought to have ; it 
becomes a monstrous body. It becomes still more 
so, if it has defect of redundancy, or deficiency. It is 
then truly a deformed object. 

I may say, my Brethren, that too much, and too 
little, are equally dangerous in morality ; because they 



THE LORD'S SUPPER 



363 



are as capable of taking from the soul its true beauty, 
as they are in nature of taking* from a human body its 
perfection, and symmetry. You know that virtue 
consists in a just medium, which is far from all sin- 
ful excess. Too much, and too little of liberality; 
too much, and too little courage; and so of the rest, 
cause opposite defects, but equally contrary to the 
laudable situation in which our hearts ought to be 
found. 

But, Christians ; it is principally in religion that 
-superabundance, and deficiency, are capable of spoil- 
ing all. Take away from this religion, its conformity 
to the word of God, by retrenchments in essentials, or 
considerable additions, and you destroy it. There is 
no God! This is what the Atheist wishes to # take 
from religion. There are many Gods! This is what 
the Idolator wishes to believe. Extremes almost equal- 
ly dangerous! Takeaway from religion Jesus Christ; 
or deny his divinity, and his merit ; and this is to de- 
stroy Christianity. Unite to Jesus Christ our Saviour, 
other mediators; and join the creature to the Creator; 
and this is also to overturn the gospel. In a word, 
error, and superstition, are always guilty, in one way 
or other, of taking from it, or adding to it. Subtle 
errors are usually those which diminish, and take 
away. Superstitions, and gross errors, are those 
which add to it, and burthen it. Above all, nothing 
is more monstrous, than when, by an assemblage of 
errors, falsity, fruitful inventions, make, in respect 
to one and the same subject, essential retrenchments, 
and capital additions. We cannot illustrate this in a 
more striking manner, upon any other subject, than 
that of the eucharist. Here the Church of Rome 
sins, both by redundancy, and deficiency. The de- 
ficiency is the eucharist, mutilated in one of its essen- 
tial parts, by the retrenchment of the cup. The re- 



364 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



dundancy is the eucliarist corrupted, and changed into 
an idol, by the addition of transubstantiation. It is of 
these two errors, which are of so great importance, 
that our section in the catechism treats, and of which 
our business is, after its example, to set before you 
the falsity. 

Finally, it is a matter of indifference, in itself, with 
which of these two errors we begin our discourse. 
Perhaps, with respect to their origin, it would be 
more just, and more natural, to begin with transub- 
stantiation, which was, without doubt, the source 
whence the retrenchment of the cup, afterwards, pro- 
ceeded. But, as our catechism has thought proper 
to pursue another method, we will follow it; and we 
will speak, first, of the communion in both kinds, of 
bread and wine, which the Church of Rome has alter- 
ed, and mangled, by an unjust encroachment. This 
shall be our first point. After which, we shall review 
this error, with that which brought it forth ; 1 mean 
that prodigious transformation, which Rome supposes, 
in this sacrament. This shall be our second part. 
God grant, that, in reviving the ideas of those who 
are instructed in these matters; and, in instructing 
those who have not yet thoroughly examined our rea r 
sons, we may contribute to the elucidation of the 
truth, and the advancement, and establishment, of our 
faith. AMEN. 



FIRST PART. 



Brethren, Jesus Christ has instituted the 
holy sacrament, under the two symbols of bread and 
wine : this is what I shall first consider. St. Luke 



THE lord's supper. 363 

says expressly, that likewise, or in the same manner, 
he gave the cup, as he had done the bread, to set 
forth the union of the two things ; and he said, 
cc Drink ye all of this;" which he had not said, so 
expressly, of the bread. It appears that he expressed 
himself more particularly in regard to the wine, be- 
cause he distributed to each one his bit of bread : 
But as to the cup, he contented himself with giving 
it to him who sat next him, that he might pass it 
from hand to hand, to all who were present. Per- 
haps he intended, at the same time, to make it 
known, that in Jesus Christ there is no distinction 
of sex, nor condition ; that all, men and women, 
bond and free, are admitted to a participation, in his 
covenant. Who knows whether he did not farther 
intend, by saying, cc Drink ye all of this" to anti- 
cipate the error which was to spring up in future 
ages ? However that may be, nothing can be more 
strong, to convince us, that an order so formal, and 
so general, was addressed to all who were present. 

He adds, as a reason of this commandment ; cc For 
" this is my blood of the new testament, or of the 
"new covenant, which is shed for many, for the 
" remission of sins." In effect, if the blood of 
Christ ie shed for simple believers of the laity, men 
and women, as well as for the priests ; or if the cove- 
nant is for the one as well as the other; if "the wine 
particularly represents the blood of Christ, the effu- 
sion of which was necessary, for the remission of our 
sins : It is evident that the one, as well as the other, 
have a right to participate in the cup. 

But will Rome, who never fails in evasions, fail in 
this point. Hear her answer. Jesus Christ onlv 
spoke to the apostles, in saying " Dri?ik ye all of 
(C this:" The commandment then can onlv be obli- 

mi 



366 



THE LORD'S SUPPER". 



gatory upon the priests, who are their successors 
To this we have many things to oppose. In the first 
place, it is not unlikely, that in the celebration of the 
first supper, there were more than the disciples pre- 
sent. The law obliged every family to celebrate the 
passover in common ; the women were to do it as 
well as the men ; and the blessed virgin, who was 
then at Jerusalem, seeing she was present at the pas- 
sion of her son, doubtless would not forget to cele- 
brate an ordinance so religiously, and so rigorously, 
commanded. But with whom should she assemble, 
in order to this, more properly than with Jesus Christ 
and his disciples ? 

In the second place, if the Saviour spoke only to 
the priests ; whence cometh it, that Rome permits 
kings, and those cardinals who are not priests, and a 
certain religious order of Cisteaux, the privilege of 
communicating-, at least sometimes, in both kinds ? 
Kings, whose crowns have no connection with the 
priesthood, ought not to receive the cup, and the day 
even of their coronation, ought not to give them any 
such privilege. Moreover, if Jesus Christ said to 
his apostles, cc Drink ye," and distributed the cup 
to them all ; and if, according- to the observation of 
St. Mark, " They all drank of it whence comes 
it now, that none but the officiating priest has the 
privilege of partaking of the cup, and that the others 
are excluded from it: Insomuch that the Council of 
Trent pronounced an anathema against those who 
said, "That the clergy, who did not celebrate, ought 
" to communicate in both hinds/' 

Finally, our decisive answer is, that the disciples 
communicated, not in the character of apostles, but 
in the character of simple believers: Jesus Christ 
alone performed the ministerial function. Hence it 



the lord's supper; 367 



follows, that all believers have the same right. It is 
to all the faithful, that St. Paul extends the order of 
his Master. It is thus that the whole christian 
church has understood it ; seeing the faithful, in 
every place, were admitted during, so many ages, to 
the participation of the cup. We must then either 
say, that the people have no right to participate in 
the eucharist, not even of the sacred bread ; or we 
must confess, that they have a right to participate in 
the two signs. For the apostles were, according to 
the church of Rome, the only persons who received 
the bread, as well as the wine. These words, 
(c Take, eat ;" and the other, <e Do this are ad- 
dressed to the same persons, and under the same 
quality, as these latter, " Drink ye all of this." 
They have all one and the same object, and one and 
the same extent. If these regard only the apostles, 
in the character of ministers, and their successors; it 
will be necessary to say the same of those who com- 
mand us to take the bread. We must then either 
grant to the laity both kinds, or take away both 
from them. 

Let us pass from the institution of Jesus Christ, to 
that which St. Paul, the faithful and infallible inter- 
preter of his Master, has told us concerning the 
eucharist. This is the second source of our proofs. 
He says, in the 10t.h. chap, of the 1st. Cor. (c The 
" cup of blessing, which we bless, is it not the com- 
c< munion of the blood of Christ ; and the bread, 
" which we break, is it not the communion of the 
Ci body of Christ f Behold here both elements of the 
eucharist! See also the participation of both ! It is 
a thing very remarkable, that in the verse following, 
where we read, " For we are all partakers of that 
fc one bread," the ancient Latin version always reads 
these words (although they have been retrenched in 



368 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



the last editions of the vulgate) ; cc For we are all 
£C partakers of that one bread, and of that one cup." 
This shews, that the ancients, who followed the 
Latin version, have generally believed, that all the 
faithful participated in the same cup, as well as the 
same bread. There are also still extent, very ancient 
manuscripts, both in Greek and Latin, where these 
words, cc And that one cup" are found in both lan- 
guages. But the ver. does not leave us the 

least room to doubt. St. Paul there saith ; " Ye 
T cannot drink of the cup of the Lord, and the cup 
cc of devils." He speaks to the faithful, whom he 
would dissuade from all participation in the worship 
of idols. He takes it for granted then, that the faith- 
ful participated in the cup of the holy sacrament ; 
he shews them, that this participation must be in- 
compatible with that of the cups which were drank 
of in the feasts, made after the sacrificing to idols. 

The commentary of the same apostle, in the 11th. 
chap, is still more decisive. He there sets forth the 
manner in which his master instituted it, and draws 
conclusions from it. He says, " Let a man examine 
<c himself and so let him eat of that bread and di^ink 
cc of that cup." He makes no distinction: He does 
not ordain the first, and leave the second indifferent: 
He does not distinguish between the laity and the 
clergy. The order is as extensive as it is peremp- 
tory ; " Let each man examine himself — let him 
eat — let him drink" He represents the danger of 
communicating unworthily, as exceedingly great; 
(< For he that eateth, and drinkcth, unworthily, 
(< eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not 
" discerning the Lord's body" It is as clear as the 
light, that he threatened, not only the irreverence of 
the priests, or ministers ; but also that which the Co- 
rinthian Christians committed in the participation of 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



369 



the holy sacrament. It is clear that he invariably 
joins the cup and the bread, and mentions it three or 
four times in the same chapter, with an exactness 
which one should almost say was scrupulous ; so far 
is he from wishing to make any separation of them. 

There is said to be an alternative in ver. 27: 
<e Whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this 
" cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the 
" body and blood of the Lord." This supposes, it 
is added, that it is at the option of the church (C to 
" distribute," and of the faithful " to receive the 
" bread and the wine." We answer, in the first 
place, that, that which "proves too much, proves 
" nothing" For, according to the force of the terms, 
it would be equally as proper to take the cup without 
the bread, as to take the bread without the cup. At 
the same time, this is what Rome does not leave at 
the option of any one ; the alternative no longer 
exists : They have determined upon the species of 
bread alone, with regard to the laity. 

In the second place, it is not altogether certain that 
the apostle put in the text, the word " or" since the 
ancient manuscripts, among which is that which is 
preserved in England, which passes for the most an- 
cient that remains among us, have the Greek word 
Kai, fyc. and it is thus that many ancient versions 
read, even the ancient vulgate, and a great number 
of ancient authors, to say nothing of the modern ones. 

In the third place, we affirm, that the particle "or," 
is often put for the same thing as the conjunctive par- 
ticle " and." For this we might cite the examples 
of prophane authors ; we might cite the scriptures ; 
and St. Paul having put in the other verses, even 
three or four times, " And so let him drink/* gives 

B b 



\ 



t 



370 THE L'ORD^S SUPPER. 

us sufficiently to understand, that he did not intend to 
separate in one place, that which he had joined toge- 
ther in all others. 

Is not this sufficient ? Let us then add, that let them 
take as much as they please, the words, <f or drinketh," 
in all their force, they will separate, not the act of the 
communion, but the crime of him who communicates 
unworthily. For, according to the remark of a 
learned man of these provinces, it might be that the 
rich, who brought confusion into the sacred repasts, 
might only take the bread, and not the cup, with the 
poor, or that they might eat separately, and neverthe- 
less receive the cup with their Brethren. It is also 
possible, that they might commit some faults, of inat- 
tention, irreverence, or evil thoughts, by taking one 
of these symbols, which they would not have com- 
mitted by taking the other. Alas ! what a, mere 
quibble is the objection of our adversaries ? 

I shall alledge for our fourth proof, the reasons 
which we make use of respecting the design, the sig- 
nification, and the use of the holy sacrament : " In it 
" Christ is represented to us not as living, but as 
" dead;" as a victim slain and sacrificed. In it Christ 
is offered to us in the quality of meat and drink, as 
nourishment which is complete and sufficient for our 
souls. But I maintain that in these two respects it is 
absolutely necessary to take the bread by itself, and 
the wine by itself. 

First, because it is their separation which repre- 
sents to us, that in the death of Jesus Christ his blood 
did not remain in his veins ; it went out from them 
to be shed for us. It was tc The blood of atonement 
" for sin, the blood shed for the remission of our 
" sins. Without shedding of blood there is no re- 



the lord's supper. 371 

<e mission." It was needful then that by the wine 
taken by itself, and the bread by itself, we might 
commemorate both the flesh of our victim sacrificed, 
and his blood poured out for us. An eminent bishop, 
who has written in our time with all possible subtilty, 
has been obliged to acknowledge, that in the commu- 
nion of both kinds, there is a commemoration, which 
is more expressive of the violent death that Jesus 
Christ suffered. 

Secondly ; seeing that the sacrament is an image 
of our spiritual nourishment; why retrench from it 
one of the essential parts of the representation ? The 
act of drinking is not less essential to life than that of 
eating. It is not drinking a liquor, when it goes 
down as a solid body, in which it is contained, if, 
above all, we do not cause the liquor to go down in 
the act of menducation. St. Gregory Naziazum says : 
the body of the victim is not fit to be eaten, if it 
be living. 

But what! our adversaries will say; are yoir igno- 
rant of the mystery of concomitancy ? Know you not 
that by it we lose nothing in taking only one of the 
sacred signs; because, by a necessary accompani- 
ment, wherever the body is, there is also the blood? 
My Brethren, if it were sufficient to be bold in sup- 
positions, and ingenious in the invention of new term*, 
unknown to the scriptures, and to the church in the 
primitive ages, they would, doubtless, be in the right. 
The blood is in the body, under the accidents of 
bread ff by concomitancy (i. e„ by accompaniment) 
a barbarous expression; the mere jargon of the schools, 
known only since the establishment of transubstantia- 
tion. See how soon it was invented, and brought to 
maturity ! But this supposes that the body of Christ 
is in the eucharist as a living and animated body, with 

JBb 2 m 



372 I HE lord's supper. 

the blood in its veins; and this is what we deny. Al- 
though Christ, in his person is living', and " Dieth 
" no more" he is represented to us in the eucharist 
as dead, and sacrificed: it is in this quality that he is 
our victim, and that he expiates our sin. 

We may say more. Let us suppose, that only one 
of the signs is necessary, by concomitancy : this is 
being more subtle, and more wise, than eternal wis- 
dom ; it is to suppose that Jesus Christ hath ordain- 
ed, and commanded us, more than was necessary; 
and that he intended, unnecessarily, to represent by 
two signs, that which may be represented by one 
alone. This is also rendering the act of the priest 
quite useless when he participates in the cup ; since 
he has already received, under the species of breads 
all that he could receive; I mean the body, and blood, 
of Christ. Upon this subject, I recollect one thing 
which the famous historian of the Council of Trent 
has related. When the dispute was in this Council, 
respecting the communion in both kinds; a certain 
Divine, whom the Bishop of Zebenique had with him, 
maintained, " That it could not be said, that a body 
" necessarily implied its blood with it by concomi- 
"tancy; nor that what it contained, under the two 
" species, is absolutely the same thing." He added, 
ce that the blood contained in the eucharist, is blood 
6S poured out, according to the words of Jesus Christ; 
<c and, consequently, that it is a blood out of his veins, 
" without which it could not be in a state to be 
fC drank." Whence he concluded, " That it by no 
cc means followed, because the veins which constitute 
" a part of the body, are found in the species of bread, 
st that therefore the blood is there also." He confirm- 
ed the same thing by saying, " That Jesus Christ 
*■ had instituted the eucharist, in commemoration of 
1( his death, which was accomplished by the shedding 



the lord's supper. 373 

" of his blood/* These reasons entirely destroyed 
the pretended concomitancy : But what befel him 
who proposed them ? The Doctors who heard him 
were terrified — cried out against him — struck upon 
their benches, making' a terrible noise — and obliged 
this poor brow-beaten theologian to recant, to ask 
pardon, and to endeavor-to refute himself 

We may say, in the fourth place, that Rome was 
far from the sentiments, and practice, of the universal 
church, when she robbed the people of the cup. It 
well becomes this Rome to reproach us with our pre- 
tended variations, and the opposition in which we are 
found, as she saith, to antiquity. It well becomes her 
to cry <e Tradition, tradition :" She, who so evidently 
deviates from it, and from the practice of the apostles, 
from that of the primitive church, and that of all 
other Christians, in this important article of the cup ! 
Will she tell us that she does not differ, in this, from 
other communities of Christians? She will not dare 
to say so. An infinite number of monuments, and 
circumstances, written even by Roman Catholics, 
show that the Greeks, the Moscovites, the Syrians, 
the Armenians, the Georgians, the Abyssinians, still 
communicate, and always have communicated, in both 
kinds. Will she say that the ancient church did not 
partake of both symbols? We will allege, the con- 
fession, and the evidence, of some of its own doctors, 
viz. that of one Cassander, and of a learned Jesuit, 
P. Petan, which cannot be objected to : but above 
all, we will allege the confession of the Council of 
Constance, which, in the year 1415, more than 300 
years since, passed into a law the innovation, which be- 
gan to insinuate itself, by a consequence of the false sen- 
timent respecting the real and substantial presence ; 
for it has the effrontery to write, (C That although 
" Christ administered to his disciples this venerable 

b b 3 



374 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



'* sacrament, in both kinds, of bread and wine ; and 
" although, in the primitive church, this sacrament was, 
" received by the faithful, under both species, never- 
theless it is to be stedfastly believed, and" not ques- 
u tioned, that the whole body of Jesus Christ, and his 
st blood, are truly contained, as well under the form of 
e * bread, as that of the wine ; and also that the custom 
<e of giving only one kind to the laity, introduced rea- 
e< sonably by the church, and by the holy fathers, ought 
<c to be esteemed as a law." They acknowledge, then, 
that the primitive church communicated in both kinds; 
but how, after this, can it be said that the opposite 
custom <c Was introduced reasonably ?" " Rea- 
sonably!" on account of the pretended perils to 
which the cup might be exposed, and to prevent the 
indignation which might be offered to the blood of 
Christ. But since Jesus, the apostles, the fathers, 
neither saw, nor feared, nor anticipated these dangers 
so easy, in other respects, to be foreseen, if they had 
believed that the wine was transubmuted into the 
blood of Christ, we may certainly say, that this fully 
demonstrates that they neither believed, nor acknow- 
ledged, this pretended transubstantiation. 

Shall I here allege formal proofs, that the ancient 
church communicated with the cup? Our authors 
have produced them from all the ancient liturgies, 
that remain among us : Liturgies, of which some 
evidently bear the names of some apostles, who were 
never the authors of them ; but liturgies, neverthe- 
less, of very great antiquity, and which all speak of 
the communion of the cup, as well as of the bread. 
Shall I allege the fathers ? I find in the second cen- 
tury, which followed that of the apostles, Justin Mar- 
tyr, who tells us, " That in the celebration of the 
*/ mysteries, the bread is distributed to all the com- 
" municants, and also the consecrated wine,'' If I 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



375 



pass to the thirds I shall there find the depositions of 
Origin and St. Cyprian ; in the fourth, those of St. 
Athanasius, St. Cyrill, St. Chrysostom, St. Basil, and 
many others. In the fifth, we shall find, among 
many witnesses, two sovereign pontifs, Leo the 1st, 
and Gelasius, both condemning the Manichees, who 
did not take the cup. But this is not a proper place 
to cite so many passages, any more than those which 
the following ages would furnish us with. 

We will only say, that the church communicated 
in both kinds, until the ninth century, without any 
public alteration in its doctrine being perceived. It 
was only insensibly, and by degrees, that they ar- 
rived at the retrenchment of the cup. They put at 
first apart of the bread into the cup. They pre- 
tended, that this small quantity was sufficient to con- 
secrate the wine ; and they gave some of the bread, 
thus soaked, to the people ; as they had sometimes 
done to sick people, to enable them to communicate 
with more ease. Afterwards, to avoid the danger of 
spilling, they invented cups with narrow funnels, 
through which they received the wine by suction. 
After this, it appears, that in some churches they 
began to communicate in one kind only, in the 
eleventh century, and continued it till the fifteenth. 
But this was not general ; many still communicated 
under both ; until at length they made an express, 
law against it in the Council of Constance. Thence, 
how many complaints, and quarrels, have sprung up ! 
How much blood has been shed in the wars against 
the Bohemians ! Thus it is, that anti- christian errors 
have always cost the lives of so many victims ; and 
the sacrament of our Saviour, a mark of his benevo- 
lence, and love, has caused, by the zealots of Rome^ 
punishments, combats, inhumanities, and barbarities^ 
without number. In vain have efforts been exerted 



376 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



to correct it, to soften it, to make it retract its unjust 
Jaws. In vain have been the murmurs of the people, 
the complaints of princes, the requests of the emperor 
himself, and of the King- of France, by their ambas- 
sadors, to the Council of Trent: the error was con- 
firmed, and this church, incapable of yielding, for 
fear of shaking the dogma of her pretended infallibi- 
lity, has shewn, in this respect, as well as in others, 
that she bears the perfect character which constitutes 
heresy ; which is incorrigible obstinacy ! But we must 
leave this article, and pass to the second; I mean 
tran substantiation, which is to be the subject of my 
second part, 



SECOND PART. 

Here, Christians, overwhelmed with abundance 
of matter, we shall select only a few of our reasons 
against the false hypotheses, which we intend to re- 
fute. 

I shall first remark, in order to elucidate the sub- 
ject, that there are three things in this sentiment of 
Rome, respecting the eucharist, which are connected 
together. These are, first, that which is called the 
real presence, or which might be more properly called 
the carnal and corporeal presence of the body and 
blood of Christ, in the sacrament. The second is, 
transubstantiation, or the conversion of bread and 
wine, into the proper substance of the body and 
blood of Christ. The third is, the manducation, 
which they pretend to make with the mouth, of this 
body and olood. Connected together as these three 
errors are, they are not one and the same thing. The 



V 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



377 



carnal presence is the first thing supposed, in conse- 
quence of the words of Jesus Christ falsely interpret- 
ed. Then comes tran substantiation, as the mode of 
explaining how Jesus Christ is substantially present. 
And the oral manducation, or that of the mouth, is a 
consequence of both. It is true that we make use 
of the same reasons, in part, against all the three, and 
especially, against the real presence, and transubstan- 
tiation. It is likewise true, that the first, being over- 
thrown, (I mean the carnal presence), the two others 
cannot subsist. It is, nevertheless, certain, that there 
are also some particular arguments against each of 
them; and that the real presence, and transubstan- 
tiation, are different; as well in themselves, as in their 
origin and extent. I say in themselves; for, to say 
that Jesus Christ is corporeally present, and to say 
that he is present by a conversion, a transformation 
of the substance of the bread and wine into another 
substance entirely different, are two different things. 
The one has reference to the presence itself: the 
other to the manner of this presence ; a manner much 
more incomprehensible than the presence itself. I 
say, also, that these things are different in their origin 
and their birth. The one is the mother, which is 
the carnal presence ; the other the daughter, which is 
transubstantiation. 

The real presence sprang up in the beginning of 
the ninth century. Paschase Ratbert Moine, and 
afterwards the Abby de Corbie, were the inventers, 
and promoters, of it, at least among the Latins. For 
some will have it, that among the Greeks this opinion 
began to appear in the eighth century, at the second 
Council of Nice, and in the writings of John of 
Demas, or Demascus. And as to transubstantiation, 
the name of which was unknown for ten or eleven 
centuries, we cannot find the origin of it, except in 



378 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



a council of Rome, towards the end of the eleventh 
century, under Gregory VII. where it was said, in 
prescribing to the famous Beringer a new formulary 
of retractation, different from that which Nicholas IL 
had prescribed for him; " That the bread and the 
" wine which are placed upon the altar, are t.ransub- 
f stantialiy changed, by the mystery of the sacred 
"oration, and by the words of our Redeemer, into 
" the true, and proper, living flesh, into the true, and 
(e proper, body of Jesus Christ." Rut after all, the 
dogma, and the term, were not established, and fully 
received, till the Council of Lateran, under Innocent 
III. in the year 1215 : And even this dogma did not 
pass into a law, accompanied with an anathema, till 
the Council of Trent. 

There is also a difference between the real pre- 
sence, and transubstantiation, with respect to the 
extent of this sentiment. Those who receive what 
is called impanation, con substantial ion, readily admit 
the real presence ; but they do not, on this account, 
receive transubstantiation. Consubstantiation appears 
to have been the sentiment of Damascene, and Pas- 
chase, and afterwards of Peter d' A illy, Cardinal of 
Cambray ; as it is at this day, the sentiment of those 
of our brethren, who follow the Augsbourg Confes- 
sion. They maintain, that in the sacrament there 
are two substances, one visible, and the other invisi- 
ble. The visible is the bread — the invisible is the 
body of Christ ; and they pretend, that this is under, 
with, and in, the bread and wine. But this senti- 
ment, which differs from that of the transubstantia 
tors, neither supposes the existence of the accidents 
without the substance, nor the prodigious change of 
one body into another body, which has already sub- 
sisted many ages. This sentiment does not destroy 
the nature of the sacrament, by taking away, and 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



37§ 



annihilating, the elements of bread and wine, which 
are the sign of it ; and above all, it does not establish, 
or teach, the adoration of the sacrament, which is 
downright idolatry. It is then clear, and certain, 
that the sentiment of the real presence, is more ex- 
tensive, as well as more ancient, than that of transub- 
stantiation. This last is peculiar to the church of 
Rome; it is its own error, which distinguishes it 
from all other christian communities. 

We shall here make a third remark, which will 
serve to elucidate some expressions of our cathechism, 
and to answer certain questions, and certain objec- 
tions, urged by our adversaries. Because we will 
not admit of a substantial conversion of the sacra- 
ment, even in the things signified ; they will have it, 
that we acknowledge no change in the bread and 
wine ; that, consequently, we give to the communi- 
cants nothing spiritual, nothing divine, nothing but 
an empty and naked figure of virtue : And hence 
they take upon them to give us the name of <c Sacra- 
C( mentarians." To this they add divers passages 
from the ancient Doctors of the church, who furnish 
them with very strong expressions, to point out, that 
a great and miraculous change is made in the eucha- 
rist ; and they pretend, that these expressions of the 
fathers cannot accord with the ideas that we now 
have of the holy sacrament. They go still farther ; 
they tell us, that we are even far from the sentiments 
of our first reformers ; since it is said, in the third 
answer of the section we are treating of, cc That we 
(: doubt not but Christ giveth to us to partake of his 
- e proper substance which is also found nearly the 
same, both in our liturgy, and in our confession of 
faith : At the same time they tell us, it is language 
we no longer make use of. 



380 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



I shall answer these objections one by one. We 
are very different from all those to whom the name 
of ec Sacramentarians" is applicable ; as it is to the 
Socinians and Anabaptists, who too much diminish, 
and weaken, the just idea, which we ought to have 
of the efficacy of the sacraments. We acknowledge 
that there is something admirable, and divine, in the 
eucharist; in its institution, in its use, as also in its 
efficacy, when it is worthily received. There is not, 
it is true, according to our views, any change of sub- 
stance. But does it follow, that what is not changed 
in a manner substantial and corporeal, is not changed 
at all ? There is in the holy sacrament a moral 
change, a change of use, of signification, and desti^ 
nation. And God alone could make this change'; 
for none but he could elevate ordinary bread and 
wine to this sacred and sublime use, by which it sig- 
nifies, and represents, the body and blood of Christ; 
his death, his merit, and the effects of both. It was 
only he who, by virtue of his institution, could excite 
us to look upon, and receive with faith, these signs 
of bread and wine, as symbols of the body and blood 
of our Saviour, as the earnest of his promises, and 
the seal of his covenant. It was also God onlv who 
could assure the true communicants, that the signs, 
should be accompanied with all the virtue, and effica- 
cy, of the thing signified, which is Christ crucified, 
and sacrificed. It was God only who could effec- 
tually communicate this efficacy, and this supernatural 
virtue, in the act itself, to those who worthily receive 
the holy sacrament. Is not this then a wonderful 
change, and in some sense supernatural? Do we 
then give them nothing spiritual and divine, when in 
giving the elements to the faithful, we assure them, 
that the Father shall communicate to them, invisibly., 
all the benefits of his Son's sacrifice \ 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



381 



I answer, in the second place, that we are not 
* obliged to excuse, or to adopt, to its full extent, all 
that may be found, in the expressions of the Fathers ; 
w ho, if I may be permitted thus to speak, being more 
orators than commentators, more pious than exact, 
more careful to warm the hearts of their auditors,, 
than to inform their judgments by the communica- 
tion of ideas ; have not always, perhaps, themselves 
been careful sufficiently to develope their sentiments, 
or to impart clear ideas to those whom they taught. 
But, after all there is nothing in the primitive fathers, 
which may not be consistently explained by this won- 
derful change in the bread and wine, by this destina- 
tion of God, by this sacred use, which renders them 
the symbols of the body and blood of Christ, and by 
the admirable efficacy which accompanies these pre- 
cious signs, in respect of the faithful : agreeably to 
which they delighted in saying, " That the bread is 
t( full of the life-giving virtue, of the flesh of the Son 
ff of God/' Certainly, since authors have proved, 
that the ancient fathers did not throw in the way, 
any material difficulties, which we now oppose to 
transubstantiation ; difficulties taken from the evidence 
of sense, and the purer ideas of reason, which are 
common to all men: and since our writings have de- 
monstrated, by hundreds of quotations from these an- 
cient doctors, that they have said, and believed, things 
which destroy the opinion of the carnal, and popish, 
transubstantiation ; it is clear, that the change, and the 
efficacy, which they admitted in the eucharist, is, by 
no means, either the thing itself, or any one of the 
consequences, of a corporeal, and substantial, con- 
version. 

Let us say a word upon that expression of our pri- 
mitive authors ; ee To be partakers, to be nourished 
" with the proper substance of the body and blood of 



382 



THE LORD'S SUPPER, 



ic Christ/* We will not dare to deny, that it is ra- 
ther strong, or rather, that it appears so; but it is, in 
its true meaning*, pure, and susceptible of a good, and 
true, interpretation. Our first reformers, accused of 
being Sacramentarians, and loaded with a thousand 
reproaches, as if they had taken away all virtue, and 
all reality, from the eucharist, thought proper to ex- 
press themselves with some force, in order to cut off 
all occasions of the like accusations. Going forth 
from the bosom of a communion, so full of extremes 
in outward things, they could not be, at first, so exact 
in their language as we ought now to be, when the 
subjects are set in a clearer light, and are better 
developed, 

■ 

Nor can we even say, that if, notwithstanding all 
that they have so expressly said, in order to explain 
the institution of the sacrament, and its nature, and 
to combat the errors of Rome j they have, neverthe- 
. less, some times pressed their own expressions against 
themselves, and against their disciples. We ougiit not 
to be astonished, if we find, in the fathers, who were 
much less cautious upon the subject, passages from 
which it is imagined, that inferences can be drawn 
against ourselves, but which, at the same time, can 
conclude nothing against other passages, where they 
have explained themselves in the most clear manner, 
Our catechism then does not intend to say, that our 
bodies receive the proper substance of Christ; nor 
that our souls, which are spiritual, have need of a 
material sensation of his fiesh and blood ; or, that 
they are capable of gross and fleshly nourishment: 
But it means by (C the substance," the truth, the rea- 
lity of the Divine efficacy of Jesus Christ. It means, 
that Jesus Christ is not separated from his gifts, but 
that he bestows upon us all the graces which he has 
purchased for us by his death ; that thus our commit 



THE LORD'S SUPPER 



383 



nion is nothing less than a simple figure of union, but 
an union between Christ and us, which is real and 
personal ; insomuch, that all the benefits that his 
sacred person can communicate to our souls, truly 
appertain to us. But there is nothing in this that we 
have not adopted, 

I pass now to our arguments against the false hy- 
pothesis, without wandering from the beaten paths. 
We have only three general sources of information, 
three evidences upon which we can build our senti- 
ments ; which are, sense, reason, and revelation. But 
we do not find that transubstantiation draws its proofs 
from any one of these sources : We even find that 
these three witnesses combat it in a formal manner. 

The senses do not determine in its favor : Yet the 
object is within their grasp. It is an object which is 
visible and palpable ; an object which should have 
its figure and extension. It is a sacrament, which, 
according to the definition of all the schools, adopted 
by Rome itself ; is ce a visible sign of an invisible 
" grace." It is, therefore, a thing which in the cha- 
racter of a sacrament, is truly an object of our senses. 
It is a corporeal substance ; and what can judge of it, 
if the senses cannot ? When the rod of Moses be- 
came a serpent, when the waters were turned into 
blood, when the water was converted into wine at the 
marriage of Cana ; what was to judge of this conver- 
sion, of this transubstantiation ? If I may thus speak. 
I answer, the senses. In this case, shall we reject the 
same witnesses ? Or, why shall not the evidence be 
admitted ? I consult them : They are many ; the 
sight, the touch, the taste, the smell. The sight tells 
me that I perceive no change in the bread and wine. 
The touch assures me that I feel nothing but bread 
and wine ! The others unite, and we taste no other, 



384 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



we feel no other thing. J3ut penetrate, cut, divide, 
these elements ! Look under every cover ! No, these 
witnesses discover to you nothing more ! They ar* 
ways find, even to the last particle, the consistence, 
the figure, the taste, the weight, the color, the smell, 
of the particles of bread and wine ! Here then we may 
say to God, what one of our adversaries has dared to 
say to him respecting these words, " This is my body : 
te Lord, if we are deceived, it is thou who hast de- 
<e ceived us [" Lord, if our senses deceive us, con- 
cerning a subject so congenial to them, to which we 
apply four of them, with which we exert every effort 
to determine whether we can oppose, and contradict, 
the impression which they make upon us ? If our 
senses deceive us concerning a subject in which we 
consult all men, and even those who are most upon 
their guard; and in respect to which they are obliged 
uniformly to answer, that what your eyes see, that 
what your hands handle, appears to them, as to us, 
bread, and not human flesh ? If we are deceived in 
these instances, how shall we be prevented from say- 
ing, that the illusion comes from thyself? 

Some will say to us, call in reason to your assist- 
ance. But its most pure notions, its most distinct 
ideas, were never more contrary to any hypothesis 
than to this. It is laid down as a rule in philosophy, 
that what I conceive clearly and distinctly, after an 
attentive examination, is true. And here I conceive 
clearly, that a body has it dimensions, that it has its 
parts in a certain situation, that it is necessarily visi- 
ble, palpable, extended, that it cannot be under a 
point, that there is no penetration of dimensions ! I 
conceive distinctly, that a body formed to day cannot 
be the same that was born 1700 years ago ; that a 
body cannot be alone, and at the same time multiplied 
to infinity; continuing in heaven, and nevertheless be 



the lord's supper. 385 

upon the earth, and be there in a million of places ; 
that it cannot be altogether formed of the blood of 
Mary, and of the substance of bread. I conceive 
that a human body is no longer such, if I destroy all 
its properties. I conceive that a glorious body, such 
as that of Jesus Christ in heaven, can no longer be 
exposed to all the accidents to which an host is sub- 
ject, without destroying his glory and impassibility, 
These are the things which, with a thousand others, 
combat transubstantiation, according to our clearest 
information. 

But, doctors of Rome, I understand you \ you cry 
down both sense and reason, and you challenge their 
testimony. A true means of leading us to a fatal 
witchcraft, to which our age is so much inclined. A 
true means of decrying, and destroying, the Christian 
religion. You say you will not allow that the senses 
should judge of mysteries. Very well : we do not call 
them in to judge of those kinds of invisible and spiri- 
tual mysteries, which do not fall under their jurisdic- 
tion. But what then ! the mystery of the incarnation, 
and that of the ascension of J esus Christ ; those great, 
those principal, foundations of our faith ; were they 
not within their grasp ? Whence then comes it, that 
St. John tells us : cc That which we have seen with 
" our eyes — and our hands have handled of the 
" word of life — declare we unto you ?" Whence 
comes it, that Jesus Christ said to his disciples; 
( S Handle me, and see ?" And what other certainty 
have we of the truth of the humanity of Jesus Christ, 
of his conversation in the flesh, of his miracles, of his 
resurrection, of his ascension ; than that of the senses 
of those who were witnesses of them ? If I must 
doubt of the evidence of the senses, in things to 
which they are competent; I lose, at once, all the 
proofs of the truth of the Christian religion, drawn 

c $ 



i 



386 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



from miracles; and this is, without doubt, a prin* 
cipal one. 

What shall I do even with my reading, and my 
attention, when I am taught ? I believe and under- 
stand that which the scripture contains, and that 
which it recites, teaches, and promises me : But if 
my senses are deceivers, they may be so when I read, 
when I hear; I no longer believe any thing upon 
their testimony. No, no ; I shall apply here a word 
from Tertulian : " What doest thou, insolent and 
" obstinate academic ? Thou overturnest every thing 
Si in human life, thou disturbest the whole order of 
<c nature, thou deliverest up providence itself to a 
ee blind God, who must have set over it the father of 
ec liars and deceivers, in order to cause us to know, 
ce to cultivate, to dispense, and to possess, his works/* 
We may say to our adversaries ; you destroy the 
whole of religion, when you maintain that God has 
annihilated all the right that our senses claim, to give 
their evidence respecting what concerns them, and 
respecting the corporeal objects which are within 
their province. 

Why should reason, also, be discredited? It ought, 
without doubt, to be submissive to revelation, and not 
to go beyond its own sphere: but without it; are we 
able even to judge of the true meaning of scripture? 
Without it, could we build ourselves up in the faith, 
and remove our scruples? And when it judges of 
the nature of bodies, when it judges of contradic- 
tory propositions ; does it not remain within its own 
sphere? 

It is necessary, then, finally, to proceed to revela- 
tion. Perhaps, it is this which, being capable of car- 
rying us farther than reason and our senses, will de- 



the lord's supper. 387 

clare to us, clearly, formally, and precisely, that there 
is a conversion of substance in the eucharist. When 
Moses, and St. John, spoke of the rod changed into a 
serpent, of the river changed into blood, of water con- 
verted into wine, they spoke of them clearly. They 
gave us a circumstantial account of these miracles, 
and spoke not of a change which subsisted, without 
being contradicted by the senses : for they never sup- 
posed, that the rod preserved the appearance of a rod, 
but was nevertheless a serpent; that the water pre- 
served the accidents of water, the modifications of 
water, but was nevertheless wine, or blood. But here 
the scripture makes not any circumstantial recital; 
there is no history which expresses a conversion of 
substance, or any visible and standing change, by 
which we can be convinced. What silence ! How 
astonishing is it, if we must believe a transubstantia- 
tion so incredible! It is true, that Jesus Christ pro- 
nounced these words : " This is my body ; this is 
<c my blood But what consequences will necessa- 
rily follow, if we infer that the bread and wine are 
transubstantiated into the proper body of the Son of 
Mary? Thus many Roman doctors, such as Car- 
dinal Cambray, Gabriel Biel, (a great schoolman), 
and the Cardinal Caiston, have acknowledged, that 
transubstantiation cannot be proved by these words 
How then ? By the authority of the church, which 
thus interprets them ; as if the church, in its inter- 
pretations, could give the lie to the senses, reason, 
and scripture ; and supply their silence by its au- 
thority alone! 

We may say more. As it is in reality upon the 
words of Jesus Christ, that Rome pretends to build its 
doctrine, I shall make upon it, in opposition to her, 
two important observations. The first is, that, ac- 
cording to all the rules of language, and of proper 

c c 2 



388 



THE LORD'S SUPPER, 



interpretation, these words can be taken Only in a 
figurative sense. For when the terms of a proposi- 
tion, being taken in their literal sense, make the sense 
absurd, or do not make sense, but lay down things con- 
tradictory and incompatible; every one knows, by 
his own experience, that necessity leads us to give 
them a figurative meaning. But the two terms of 
this proposition, " This bread is my body/' taken in 
the literal sense, are inadmissible, and carry with them 
an evident contradiction. This is so convincing, that 
Bellermine, and some others, have acknowledged, 
that, if, by the word this, we must understand " this 
" bread/' we cannot reasonably take the sacramental 
words in any other than a figurative sense. Tt was 
also impossible, that the apostles should take them 
otherwise, since they saw, in the hands of Jesus 
Christ, the bread which he shewed them, while saying 
" this;" and he had not informed them, before hand, 
of the change which he was about to make. It was, 
moreover, necessary, according to the hypothesis of 
Rome itself, that this should still be bread, since, ac- 
cording to her, the transubstantiation had not taken 
place when Jesus Christ said " this." This change 
was only made, according to her, by the pronuncia- 
tion of all the words ; and the bread is not the body, 
until the whole of the proposition has been uttered. 
There is also a well-known rule, which St. Augus- 
tine has laid down, to distinguish between the proper 
and figurative language — a rule which common sense 
had taught St. Augustine, and which is, consequently, 
more ancient thanlKm : fc It is, then, when the words 
£C of scripture, being taken literally, would command 
cc us to commit a crime, we must then say, that these 
ec words are figurative/' He himself applies his rule 
to an expression wholly resembling that of the holy 
sacrament : ft When Christ said, f Except ye eat 
J5 the Jiesh of the Son of Man, and drink- his- blood, 



the lord's supper. 389 



"ye have no life in you f this proposition/' saith he, 
" appears to command a crime ; consequently,, it is 
" figurative." Behold, this is the same thing ! These 
words, ff This is my body, this is my blood/' joined 
to others ; take, eat — take and drink ; taken literally^ 
would command a crime, to eat the flesh of a man, 
and to drink human blood. It was even a crime for 
the Jews to eat, or drink, the blood of beasts. We 
must, then, have recourse to the figurative meaning. 

My second observation is, that all the circumstances 
of the thing itself, of the time, the act, and the words 
of the Saviour, led the minds of the apostles to that 
figure, so natural and so common, which gives to signs 
the names of the things signified. Moreover, this 
was the custom in sacramental things in general; 
they had an eye to the manner of speaking at the 
feast of the passover, which they were celebrating. 
It is well known, that the father of the family among 
the Jews, while presenting to each a bit of unleavened 
bread, said to him, " This is the bread of afflic- 
tion which our fathers did eat in Egypt;" which 
can be understood figuratively only, which is, that 
this was the memorial of that bread of affliction, 
which their fathers had eaten aforetime. Was it, 
then, to be wondered at, that Jesus Christ, while 
making use of a similar expression, should give them 
the bread for a sign, and memorial, of his body? 
There is still more. The lamb which was eaten in 
each family, was generally called the body of the pass- 
over. " This is/' said they, " the body of the pass- 
" over. 33 But, how was this lamb the passover, and 
the body of the passover, but because it was a memo- 
rial of that lamb whose death saved the lives of the 
first-born of the children of Israel in Egypt? Jesus 
Christ, then, in saying, " This is my body/* had a 
manifest allusion to this manner of speaking. The 

c c S 



390 the lord's supper. 

minds of the disciples would necessarily be struck with 
it; and it was impossible, that in following these ideas, 
which were so familiar to them, they should under- 
stand it otherwise, than, " That the bread was the 
" body of Christ, in symbol, and in sacrament ;" for 
thus it was that the flesh of the lamb, was the body 
of the ancient passover, by way of commemoration, 
and not in reality, or identity. 

If they had admitted a contrary thought, how 
would it have been possible for them to have remain- 
ed so tranquil as they appeared in the act of the holy 
sacrament, and so prompt to obey, without scruple, 
without repugnance, without, in the least, questioning 
it? This was neither their custom nor their disposi- 
tion. They made difficulties of almost every thing; 
and it appears by the evangelists, that Jesus Christ 
proposed nothing a little above their reach, a little 
difficult to comprehend, but immediately their heart, 
or their spirit, revolted, so that they put questions 
either to Jesus Christ himself, or to each other ; 
" What is this that he saith ?" Do you imagine 
that if Peter, among the rest, whose disposition was 
to require reasons for every thing, and obstinately to 
oppose what appeared to him incomprehensible, or 
not very probable ; do you imagine, that if he had 
apprehended that the words of his Master had borne 
the stamp of reality, he would not have shuddered at 
the thought of eating his Lord, of devouring his flesh, 
and drinking his blood ? He who cried ; This shall 
tc not come upon thee/' from the mere idea of the 
death of Christ, whom men should crucify, which had 
nothing in it incomprehensible, would he not have 
said, " Lord, dost thou descend into my stomach? 
" this shall not come upon thee." He who said in 
the vision of the sheet, although the voice cried from 
heaven, slay, and eat ; c< Not so> Lord, for nothing 



rHE lord's supper. 



391 



e * common, or unclean, hath entered my mouth :" 
Would he not have said to Jesus Christ, who said to 
him, " Take and eat my body, and drink my blood;'* 
"Lord! bjood is forbidden us: It shall never be 
(( said that I drink thine." We see nothing in any 
one of the disciples, that indicates astonishment. Al- 
though here all nature is inverted, and a man must 
give the lie to his senses, and his reason, though he 
has no ground to assure himself of a thing so prodi- 
gious, of a miracle so incredible : the apostles digested 
all these contradictions without being even moved by 
them ! Who does not see that this could not be; and 
that it would have been necessary for Jesus Christ to 
produce this effect in the mind of each apostle; to 
have inverted all their knowledge, and changed all 
their natural dispositions. Let us maintain then that 
it must necessarily be, that the disciples understood 
these sacramental words in a familiar sense, which 
did not involve any absurdity, and which could be 
only the figurative sense we have adopted. 



CONCLUSION. 



JEnough has been said, my Brethren, and per- 
haps too much ; upon this subject. You see here two 
strange innovations of the church of Rome, for which, 
among others, our fathers quitted its communion. If 
God has pronounced a curse upon those who add to 
his word, what can we think of the church of Rome, 
and what shall we not fear for her, whilst she perse- 
veres in the two errors which we have combated ? 
Under the law, if any one abolished any one of the 
ceremonies which Moses had instituted, under God, 
what punishment would he not have incurred ? But 



392 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 



they retrench from the sacraments, instituted by Jesus 
Christ himself, an essential part : What sacrilege ! 
worthy of punishment ! Under the law, to present 
to God strange fire, was a capital crime : But here to 
add to the sacrament a transubstantiation, must be 
a crime much more atrocious ! We have then had 
just cause for separating ourselves from a church, 
which would not correct itself, and which has re- 
volted more and more, by enacting into articles of 
faith, opinions so monstrous! 

Refugees; it is because you were not willing to 
renounce the cup that Jesus Christ hath given you, 
and because you have refused to believe in a tran- 
substantiation, which is the bane of reason and reli- 
gion, and which estranges the Jews, and Mahome- 
tans, who often reproach the Christians of the church 
of Rome with eating their God : A reproach which 
Averroes, the Arabian philosopher, cast upon them 
long since : It is, I say, for this that you have been tor- 
mented, and driven away. It is for this that many of 
our Brethren have suffered, and that some of them 
still suffer, in prisons and galleys. How many bloody 
victims have been imolated at the shrine of the mon- 
strous prodigy, the idol of the mass? Believers! 
" Building yourselves up in your most holy faith : 
is Flee idolatry." Flee the dangerous opinions which 
will infallibly conduct you to it. Never condemn 
your glorious ancestors, your reformers, your mar- 
tyrs, your confessors, by adopting, or by feigning to 
believe, errors which cost them so much blood, and so 
many sufferings. Never disavow your "first works 
your going forth from your native country, your vo- 
luntary exile, your patience in your present state ; by 
returning to an idolatrous and persecuting commu- 
nion. 



*rHE LORD S SUPPER. 



393 



Christians; imagine not that by not admitting, in 
the holy sacrament, a carnal presence of Jesus Christ, 
yon are deprived of the true consolations which his 
spiritual and divine presence can communicate unto 
you. No, no, we will not imitate that idolater, who, 
when one had convinced him of his error, which had 
caused him to believe in a corporeal God, with the 
figure and parts of a human body, cried out, " Ye 
" have taken away my God." You are not so in- 
fatuated, as to complain that when a wafer god, and 
the carnal presence, are taken away, that they have 
taken away your God. No, my Saviour, thou art 
ever with us, and thou shalt be with us, even to the 
end of the world. " We are not left comfortless." 
Present around us, in the midst of us, within us, in 
our hearts, in our temples — present by thy divinity, 
by thy providence, thy direction, thy protection — pre- 
sent by thy word, by thy sacraments, by thy grace and 
thy spirit; we adore thee in our temples, we find thee 
in our hearts, and we feel thee there! We find thee 
even hidden in the poor, who are thy members, and in 
the saints, who are thy living images, and to whom we 
may, and ought to do good for thy sake. 

My dear Brethren : O ! how sweet is it to have a re- 
ligion pure, holy, and spiritual, which requires nothing 
of us but what is reasonable ! Let us evidence that 
our conduct is answerable to its purity and holiness, 
among other things, by the participation of the holy 
sacrament. Let us take the mystical cup as a cup of 
blessing and praise, to celebrate the benefits of our 
redemption. Let us take the cup as a sign of the 
covenant between God and us, and as a mark of our 
engagement to Jesus Christ, so as to be willing to shed 
our blood, if it be needful, for him who hath shed his 
own for us. O ! that we might, at all times, when we 
celebrate the memorial of his death in the eucharist^ 



394 the lord's supper, 

feel all the fruits of this death; those at least that we 
are able to taste upon earth, expecting, at the same 
time, that Jesus Christ will come again visibly and 
gloriously to communicate to us all the blessed effects 
of it, by our introduction into his paradise! God grant 
it I And to him, with the Father, and the Holy Spirit 
be honor and praise, world without end. AMEN. 



/ 



SOME MEMOIRS 

OF 

Daniel De Superville, Sen. 



A FTER a series of sufferings, which continued 
during* five successive reigns, and occupied the space 
of almost a hundred years ; the Protestants of France 
obtained liberty of conscience by the Edict of Nantz. 
This edict was granted them by Henry IV. and en- 
titled them to a free admission to all employments of 
trust, honor, and profit ; the liberty of holding 
synods, and whatever else was then necessary to the 
security of their civil and religious rights. 

The Protestants, having thus obtained religious; 
liberty, enjoyed peace and tranquillity. Their mi- 
nisters were laborious in preaching, visiting, and ca- 
techising — the people assembled in their respective 
places of worship, " Under their vine and their own 
"fig-tree none daring to make them afraid. 
Prosperity was the necessary consequence. The 
numbers of the people increased, and churches were 
erected in every part of the kingdom. 

This however excited the envy, and jealousy, of 
the Popish clergy. Religious liberty, says an emi- 
nent writer, was to them that which Mordecai had 
formerly been to stately Haman. It shared no pre- 
latical honors : But prelates could not be happy 
while it sat, all contented and poor, at the king's 
gate. Its destruction was determined, and steps 
taken by its enemies to effect it. 



596 



$OME MEMOIRS OF 



"A thousand dreadful blows/' says Mr. Saurin, 
" were struck at our afflicted churches, before that 
" which destroyed them : For our enemies, if I may 
te use such an expression, not content with seeing our 
" ruin, endeavored to taste it. Edicts were pub- 
% lished, sometimes against those, who, foreseeing* the 
sc calamities that threatened our churches, and not 
" having power to prevent them, desired only the sad 
ee consolation of not being spectators of their ruin ; 
" and sometimes against those, who, through weak- 

* ness, had denied their religion, and who, unable 
" to bear the remorse of conscience, desired to return 
" to their first profession. In some instances, our 
" pastors were forbidden to exercise their discipline 
"over those of their Hocks, who had abjured the 
" truth ; and on other occasions, children of seven 
"years of age, were allowed to embrace doctrines^ 
" which, according to the church of Rome, are not 
ee level to the capacities of adults. Now a college 
" was suppressed, and then a church shut up. Some- 
" times we were forbidden to convert infidels; and 

* sometimes to confirm in the truth those whom we 
" had instructed from their infancy ; and our pastors 
" were forbidden to exercise their pastoral office any 
*' longer, in one place, than three years. Sometimes 
" the printing of our books was prohibited, and 
" sometimes those which we had printed, were taken 
" away. At one time we were not suffered to preach 
" in a church ; at another, were punished for preach- 
"ing on its ruins; and at length were, in every in- 
" stance, prohibited from worshipping God in public, 
" Now we were banished • then we were forbidden 
" to quit the kingdom, on pain of death. Here we 

saw the glorious reward of those who had betrayed 
" their religion ; and there we beheld those, who 
" had the courage to confess it, dragged to a dun- 
" geon, a scaffold, or a galley. Here we saw our 



DANIEL DE SUPERVILLE, SEN. 397 



* r persecutors drawing on a sledge the dead bodies of 

* those who had expired on the rack ; and there 
" we beheld an insidious friar, tormenting a dying 
" man, terrified, on the one hand, with the fear of 
4 t hell, if he should apostatize, and, on the other, with 
** the fear of leaving his children without bread, if he 
" should continue in the faith. Yonder the children 
H were torn from their parents, while the tender 

* parents were shedding more tears for the loss of 
" their souls, than for that of their bodies or lives/' 

" It is impossible," continues Mr. Robinson, " to 
ft meet with parallel instances of cruelty among the 
tC heathens, in their persecutions of the primitive 
* f Christians. The bloody butchers, who were sent 
" to them under the name of Dragoons, invented a 
" thousand torments, to tire their patience, and force 
iC an abjuration from them. They cast some, says 
fC Mr. Claude, into large fires, and took them out 
<c when they were half roasted. They hanged others 
cc with large ropes under their arm-pits, and plunged 
" them several times into wells, till they promised to 
" renounce their religion. They tied them like 
( * criminals on the rack, and poured wine, with a 
(C funnel, into their mouths, till, being intoxicated, 
S( they declared that they consented to turn Catholics. 
" Some they slashed and cut with pen-knives • some 
" they took by the nose with red hot tongs, and led 
" them up and down the rooms till they promised to 
" turn Catholics. These cruel proceedings made 
(C eight hundred thousand persons quit the kingdom." 

There was one thing which appears to have 
escaped the notice of our English writers ; but which 
shewed the dispositions of the Papists cowards the 
Reformed : No sooner had the Protestant ministers 
quitted the kingdom, than a book containing 300 



398 



SOME MEMOIRS OF 



pages made its appearance. This book was entitled^ 
Sentemens desinteressez sur la Retraite des Pas- 
teur s de France. The writer pretended to answer 
a book, entitled, Histoire et Apologie de la Retraite 
des Pasteurs a cause de la Persecution de France. 
It was, nevertheless, supposed, that his book was 
written before the publication of that which he 
feigned to answer ; and that, having written it, he 
put the title to it, merely to answer his own base 
purpose. He pretended to be a protestant ; but was 
discovered to be of Jesuitical principles. He profes- 
sed great friendship to the ministers, but evidenced 
himself to be their greatest enemy. The passage 
concerning the hireling, in the 10th. of St. John, ap- 
peared to answer his purpose ; and he made no hesi- 
tation in applying it to the Protestant ministers ; al- 
though, as they were then situated, it was well known 
that their continuance in the kingdom, could be nei- 
ther useful, necessary, nor possible. For they must 
either have turned Papists, or have been consigned 
to the galleys. Nevertheless, this very humane 
writer called them, " Captains, who, instead of ani- 
" mating their soldiers, by their presence and ex- 
(( ample, were the first to throw down their arms, 
f( and cry, Sauve qui peut." Thus it was, that 
the greatest insult was added to injury, by the ene- 
mies of the Protestants : who appeared to take a 
diabolical pleasure in exhibiting them to the public 
in the most contemptible light ; and in sinking them 
to the lowest state of degradation. 

The number of Ministers who quitted the king- 
dom, amounted to six hundred ; amongst whom was 
Daniel de Superville, the author of the sermons con- 
tained in this and the preceding volume. He was born 
at Saumur, in 1657; a town much admired for its 
pleasant situation. It was one of the towns given to 



DANIEL DE SUPERVILLE, SEN. 399 



the Protestants, at the Reformation, for their security. 
It contained a noble Protestant university ; where the 
renowned John Cameron, a Scotch divine, was Pro- 
fessor of Divinity. He was succeeded by Louis Cap- 
pel, Moses Amyraut, and John de la Place : all very 
great men. In 1684, Louis the XlVth. dissolved this 
university: which, with the following persecutions, 
depopulated the town. 

Of what church M. de Super ville was pastor, 
at the revocation of the Edict of Nantz, I have 
never been able to learn ; but that he was a stated 
minister to some church in France appears evi- 
dent. His sermon upon the triumph of the gospel, 
seems to have been preached in consequence of his 
appointment, and of that of his colleague, to the 
Walloon Church at Rotterdam. We find in it the 
following words, to justify this inference : Cf God 
" has granted a second favor to you, and to us. To us, 
cc by confirming us in the ministry : to you, my Bre- 
" thren, in receiving into your bosom the same two 
" pastors, who were already yours, by your benevo- 
<( lence — by their affection — and by an engagement, 
<c the ties of which become more close, and the nature 
fc more solemn, in consequence of the obligation it 
<c imposes of redoubling their efforts for your consola- 
" tion and salvation/ —(Vol.2. Page 407.) His first 
volume of sermons, appears to have been published 
for the use of the Protestants, who remained in 
France ; whose pastors had been obliged to leave the 
kingdom ; but who assembled in secret. On this ac- 
count, it is prefaced with prayers, avowedly suitable 
to such a situation. The first prayer was appointed 
to be used, after confession of sin, before the reading 
of the word of God. The second, before the reading 
of a sermon. The third, after the reading of a ser- 
mon ; and which concluded that service. The fourth 



400 SOME MEMOIRS OF 

appears to have been intended for the use of the 
scattered flocks, on those sabbath-days when the sa- 
erament of the Lord's supper was administered, where 
the Protestants had liberty of conscience. And hence 
it is entitled, " A prayer for the days on which 
<c any persons may %<oish to unite, in spirit, with 
" the churches where the holy sacrament is admi- 
" nistered so that, although they could not be, 
personally, present, they might, nevertheless, be pre- 
sent in -spirit. 

He frequently preached before the magistrates, 
and, occasionally, before some of the Royal Family. 
His third volume is dedicated to the Princess of 
Orange. It appears, that she had requested him to 
publish one of the sermons, contained in it, which 
she had heard him preach. He embraced the oppor- 
tunity of publishing a whole volume, and, with it, 
the dedication which I have just mentioned. Four 
of the sermons of that volume, I have already pub- 
lished; and probably, if the Lord spare me, I shall 
publish the remainder at some future time, as well as 
those of the first and fourth volumes. 

Mr. Superville appears to have been frequently 
called upon to preach ordination and fast sermons : 
the sermons of this description, Avhich were publish- 
ed, are standing proofs of his competency to that im- 
portant task. He often addressed himself, in parti- 
cular, to the French Refugees; putting them in mind 
of their situation — their .sufferings; and the absolute 
necessity of dedicating the residue of their days to 
the Lord; and of preparing for a better, and more 
enduring, substance in heaven. He continued to 
preach to the Walloon Church, and to superintend 
its interests, at Rotterdam, till the year 1725; when, 
in consequence of the infirmities of old age, he was 



DANIEL DE SUPERVILLE,- SEN. 



401 



no longer able, wholly, to fulfil the duties of the mi- 
nistry. Having exercised himself in that office about 
40 years, he obtained his dismission. His son Daniel 
•was appointed to be his colleague and successor. Into 
this office he was installed, on the 30th. of September, 
in the year before mentioned. 

What took place between this period, and Mr. Super- 
ville's death ; or what his particular state was, upon 
the approach of his dissolution, I have not been able 
to learn. But I apprehend there can be no doubt, that 
his end was peace ; as his life was dedicated to the 
service of God and his church. Besides his sermons, 
he published the following works: 1. Les Devoirs 
de I'Eglise qffligee. 2. Les Verites et les Devoirs 
de la Religion, en forme de Catechisme. 3. Traite 
du vrai Communicant. These different works are 
highly esteemed by the Protestants, 

Mr. A. Caillot, who published abook at Paris, in 18 10, 
entitled, " Specimens of Eloquence, extracted from 
" the Sermons of the French Protestant Orators, who 
" were most celebrated during the \lth. century ;" 
has brought forward Mr. Superville, in support of an 
assertion, which some would deem bold. It is, that he 
had discovered, in the sermons of the Protestant di- 
vines, specimens equal to the most eminent of the Ro- 
man Catholic Orators. But, perhaps, it may be most 
proper to give his sentiments, in his own words. " 1 
" have had," says he, "the happiness of discovering 
" in them specimens of real eloquence, which are 
" equal to the most excellent of our Bourdaloues and 
" Massillons. How sublime is the exordium of the 
" sermon of Superville, upon the nativity of Christ I" 
The same author has given us the character of Su- 
perville, in the following words: — "Daniel Super- 
" ville, Minister of the Walloon Church at Rotter- 



402 



SOME MEMOIRS OF, &C* 



u dam * was born at Saumur, in Anjou. Here he 
rr made great proficiency in his studies. He after- 
if wards studied at Geneva ; where he equally distin- 
" guished himself, under the most eminent Professors 
" of Divinity. He retired to Holland in 1685, the 
" year of the revocation of the Edict of Nantz ; and 
et died at Rotterdam in 1728. His sermons, collect- 
" ed in four volumes octavo, are worthy of being 
" mnked with those of Saurin ; and contain several 
(x specimens, equally characterized for excellence of 
iC style > and accuracy of thought/' 

Juke 27th, 1816, 



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